The Last Trail

Ethel Maude Williams, nee Warren, pottered around the kitchen, as she had done every night for sixty-five years. She set the table and prepared dinner, and since it was Thursday, meatloaf was in the oven. She has cooked meatloaf every Thursday since she was married. She was a creature of habit and fell into a routine early in life. Of course, there were critics; however, if they were of a mind to understand Ethel, they would soon realise that she was happy and content.

Ethel was married in 1960 to Ronald James Williams. They met at church when they were toddlers. There was an inevitability about their union. Their parents often spoke of the children being wed when they became of age, and so they were. A simple ceremony was held at the local Anglican Church. It was the age of resistance, though despite the resistance to conformity, many were content with the status quo. School, education, work, marriage, and family were the norm, and that pleased Ethel just fine.

It was a complex time. The war in Vietnam, changing gender roles, and the civil rights movement dominated the headlines. Joan Baez and Bob Dylan complemented the Beat Poets, Ginsberg, and Kerouac. Social and political protests led to the development of the counterculture. Philosophy transformed art, education reshaped the meaning of life, and protests brought about fundamental changes in society. Despite these changes, Ethel was content to be a dutiful wife and mother.

She participated in several charity organisations and was an active member of the school parent and citizen committee. Ethel assumed no leadership position; instead, she was a supporting member of the clubs she engaged in. She had no head for figures and possessed no confidence to lead a cause; however, she was a team player and believed in God, family, and community.

Five years after wedlock, Ethel gave birth to her eldest son, Ronald James Junior. Although he was a difficult child, she was proud of her eldest. He worked for the government in an undefined role. On the odd occasion he called his mother, he refused to speak about work. He talked merely of his possessions. The last time it was a new car, before this, it was an investment property, and the time before that, he spoke all about his holiday to Europe.

Ronald James Junior had not seen his mother in seven years. To be exact, it was the day they buried his father. Father and son were not alike. While the father was attentive and caring, the son was reckless and selfish. He was also outspoken and condescending, at least to his parents. This caused conflict between father and son, which led to divisions that could not be crossed. Ronald James Junior turned up on the day of his father’s funeral and left after the wake. His departure was not regretted.

The mother and son’s conversations were brief. He was not married and seemingly had little care for his mother. She was proud of his achievements and spoke fondly of him to her friends and neighbors; however, deep inside, she considered him somewhat selfish and lacking common decency. She would not tell him this directly, of course, but rather impart this knowledge using a variety of methods by mothers throughout history. She failed to make an impact, and this caused her grief for many years.

The middle child, Margaret, lived 20 miles south of the family home in a small rural setting. Despite this proximity, it had been three months since she had seen her daughter and her family. Margaret had three children, one of whom, unfortunately, was deceased. A boy, Michael, and a girl, Elizabeth, remained; however, their upbringing was erratic, as Margaret's parenting was, at least according to Ethel, questionable. In the beginning, she tried to intervene and help; however, she was often cursed and belittled by her daughter. For the love of her grandchildren, she persisted until she was told not to arrive uninvited anymore. The source of the disagreement was her son-in-law.

Margaret married a man her parents did not approve of. Parents have the capacity to see the future for their children, and it pained Ethel to be ignored after warning her daughter many times about the morality of the man she married. This caused friction between mother and daughter, which became worse after the mother's predictions proved true. Margaret admonished her mother and prevented her from seeing the grandchildren. This caused some angst and heartache for Ethel and her husband. She wanted a close relationship with her daughter; however, she felt Margaret judged her by contemporary standards of what it meant to be feminine. Margaret knew better. “Times change, mum,” she said often, “and you need to change with them.” Despite her best efforts, the relationship struggled.

Her grandson, Michael, was the proverbial apple of her eye. Despite his mother’s urging, Michael maintained a relationship with his grandmother. He phoned her twice a week, on Tuesday and Saturday, at four o'clock in the afternoon. Although he lived 300 miles away, he made every effort to communicate with his grandmother. Ethel was everything his mother was not, and he adored her from an early age. She generated a warmth that his mother did not. She was welcoming, while his mother was distant. She greeted him with open arms and a smile. These acts, he learned, that his mother was incapable of replicating. Michael was not married; however, he is soon to be a father and promises to visit when the baby is born. She speaks of him often at bingo and at the club. He is her pride and joy.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, rebelled against her mother and quickly became alienated from the family. She had a child of her own, whom her mother was looking after, though not adequately. She was unsure as to the condition of the child due to the lack of communication between mother and daughter. Margaret rarely answered the phone, and when she did, she was rude and terse. It became unnecessarily uncomfortable. As a consequence, Ethel soon learned to keep her distance.

Her youngest child, Edward, unfortunately, turned to alcohol. He was a rapscallion as a child and caused grief at school before being arrested by the police. This caused friction between father and son, with Ethel often assuming the role of negotiator. Despite her best intentions, she has been unable to help him as she desired. He lives in a run-down apartment complex on the other side of town. She hears from him only when he is drunk, on the verge of a breakdown, or needs money. Oftentimes, everything at the same time. His speech is rambling and accusatory. It breaks her heart, but she listens to him and tries to offer advice when she can.

Ethel's frail and slight frame shuffled into the lounge room where she sat on her chair, which had been in the same position for as long as she's lived in the house. She picked up her knitting and sighed. She knitted sweaters, scarves, and beanies. At first, it was for family members; however, it soon felt that she had no family left, so she stopped sending them as gifts and instead gave them to the homeless shelter which appreciated her generosity and kindness.

It has been said of Ethel that she is a simple woman with few needs. She married young, yet she was in love and still is. She was a dutiful and faithful wife to a good man. He never raised a hand against her. He did not speak ill of her, and they attended church every Sunday. They volunteered and gave back to the community. Ethel was active in the church community. She donated what small funds she could do without and lived frugally. Her home was modest, and her possessions were few. She sacrificed her freedom for family and God, and she was content doing so.

It was a simple and uncomplicated life, and she was an uncomplicated woman. Besides knitting, she read the bible and westerns. Zane Grey, Louis Lamour, and Max Brand are her favorite authors. She watched western movies on television when the occasion arose; however, she never enjoyed television as much as her husband. He watched the news, which depressed her. She preferred to ignore such shenanigans and put her trust in God. She enjoyed words because they offered more hope than actions. People could not live up to their promises, and somewhere from thought to action, the intention broke down. It was the words and the meaning in the novels she read and the bible that offered her hope.

She learned through age that you cannot control your children. You bring them up well and teach them right from wrong. It was then up to them to make the necessary adjustments. Despite this, she believed that her parenting was her greatest failure. All she wanted was to be a mother. She never raised a hand against them. She gave them everything they needed, though not everything they wanted. Just as she was not a child of her parents' generation, her children were not of hers. She did not expect them to possess her hopes and dreams. Times were different, and perhaps she thought that people truly are a product of their times. She considered her children many things. While they shared similarities, there were many differences. It is a lonely existence to be excluded from your children’s lives, and it was this that broke her heart.

The world is a changing place, and she was quite content not to change with it; after all, not all change is progress. Ethel created her world, and while her contribution to it has been constructive and positive, it was with her children that she felt the greatest sense of shame. Still, she reasoned that she had taught the kids well, and it was then up to them to apply these principles in the real world.

Personally, she did not believe it was hard to live a good life. It was easy to be nice to others. It was not difficult to lend an ear, to love, and to give. Where had it gone wrong?

In fact, being a decent person was the simplest existence. Those who complained that life was difficult lived beyond their means. A simple, clean life was available to all, but generations of people have been told that they can have more, that they deserve more. What this 'more' was, she could never work out. Besides, what was there that was worthier than a happy, clean life? She put down her knitting. Rose from the chair, locked the front door, and pulled the blinds on the last of the sun that filtered through the living room window. She turned on the artificial light and entered the kitchen, boiled the kettle, and made a cup of tea. She turned the oven off, leaving the meatloaf to finish warming up for the next ten minutes. She returned to her chair, reached to the coffee table, and picked up ‘The Last Trail,’ by Zane Grey.

She read “Twilight of a certain summer day, many years ago, shaded softly down over the wild Ohio Valley.”

She gasped, caught, and held her breath. Ethel closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair, and clasped her chest. The book fell out of her hand and landed on the floor face up, on page 32. The first line was, “The evening, tranquil and grey, crept over them with all its misery.”

Ethel's time on this earth had come to pass. She leaves behind three children and two grandchildren. She will no longer feel the agony endemic to parenthood. Ethel will no longer antagonize herself, wondering what she did wrong. There will be no more sleepless and lonely nights. She is at rest. She took with her pain, guilt, and shame. Her questions will never be answered. She will never see her children again, nor will she answer the call of the one person she truly admired, her grandson, Michael. Ethel leaves everything behind.

The cup of tea went cold. The meatloaf was forgotten.

A moth danced around a bright light.

On the table, where the family shared happiness and sorrow. Where dreams were uttered, and hope and despair revealed. Prayers were offered, and laughter shared. A place set for one. A knife, a fork, and an empty plate.