Fauna, Flora, Fern, and Frank

In the early morning hours, under the cover of darkness, before the sun had risen and when everyone was still asleep, Frank wheeled Fern out the kitchen to the back porch door. Once there, he struggled to help her to her feet and lent her his shoulder for her to lean upon. From the sheer dead weight of her, it was then that he realized that he was so tired and so old but not so tired and so old that, for once, he couldn't shoulder her burden.

After the death of their son and after burying her boy, too, she wasn't as heavy as the burden that Fern had carried in helping him get over his dependency on alcohol, even when she was having to carry the same burden alone and without his help and support. Cooking him special meals, taking him back and forth to the doctor for his appointments and for his therapy, and sitting with him in the hospital, she wasn't as heavy as the care she had given him in nursing him back to health, after he suffered both his heart attacks. She wasn't as heavy as all the support she had given him without complaint, as his loving wife, his tender lover, and his best friend through more than sixty years of happy wedded bliss. When he thought about all that she had done for him, this was his time to return the favor and do something good for her. This was all her idea, after all, only unable to do any of it, he did it for her.

Suddenly invigorated by a lifetime of good memories of having Fern in his life, when he remembered all the good times and all of her help and support she gave him through the bad times, always there for him, she wasn't heavy at all. As her lawfully wedded husband, she was his loving wife and the love of his life. Energized by all the happiness she had given him and recharged, with his heart now so happy that their dream of a public park had finally become their reality, in essence, she was as light as a feather.

There together, before the dedication and before the park was crowded with people, and before the oak tree was replanted, they walked out to view and enjoy their new park alone and to sit on their son's soon to be dedicated bench, before anyone else was there to ruin their final plan. They held hands, talked softly, kissed, and hugged. Seeing their silhouette in the moonlight, by their furtive interactions, if you didn't know they were octogenarians, you'd think they were teenagers stealing a moment together, while their parents still slept in bed. Sitting there, as lovers, in front of the deep hole where the oak tree would soon be replanted, they couldn't wait to see the completed park.

Frank got up and left Fern for a moment to move her wheelchair back in the house. He left a note on the kitchen table telling everyone that they wouldn't be back and thanking all involved for helping to create this beautiful park. Knowing they wouldn't find his note for weeks, months, maybe, and even then, wouldn't put two and two together, he secured the backdoor. Then, energized with adrenaline for what he needed to do, he returned to Fern and helped her down the deep hole first. Frail and weak, she was lighter than he remembered her being on their Honeymoon, when he carried her over the threshold of the Honeymoon Suite at the Waldorf Astoria in New York. That luxurious hotel was such a grand place back then, and they had such a memorable time.

Already sleepy from having taken so many of her sleeping pills, she was ready for her long deep sleep. Not wanting to continue to live without her, with a fistful of sleeping tablets and a big gulp of water, Frank climbed down in the hole and rested beside her. Arranging their bodies intimately in a fetal and spooning position, they'd soon fall asleep together. Insight of their son's bench, beneath the soon to be replanted oak tree, he pulled the pre-arranged blanket of dirt across to hide their bodies, and joined his wife forever.

Right on time, the first thing in the morning, they never heard the beep, beep, beep of the backing up truck arrive. They were already eternally sleeping. As if all had gathered there for their funeral to bade them their final farewell and as if all were there to give them their grateful good-byes, in witness of all their unsuspecting friends and longtime neighbors, the oak tree was delivered and slowly, carefully, and ceremoniously replanted in the hole where Fern and Frank perpetually rested. The oak tree, the crowning glory of this public park, would serve as their tombstone, as well as their tree of life. Unable to leave their neighborhood, no longer having the money to bury themselves, where else would they want to be buried than here? Watching them from Heaven, looking down at them from their lofty perch, if only their friends and neighbors knew that Frank and Fern were there, too, and had planned all of this.

The city mounted the plaque at the entrance of the park announcing to everyone that the land had been donated to the city by Fern and Frank. Only, Fern and Frank weren't there in person to receive their thanks from the city council members, the mayor, their friends, and their neighbors, nor where they there, when the governor cut the ribbon and shook hands with all the celebrities that had come to see the completed park, after following the public display of generosity. With everyone there wanting to see the rebirth of this neighborhood, surely, Frank and Fern were there, too, in spirit and would be there forever, thereafter, to celebrate every Earth Day in their new public park.