this is the story of an old mans last moments alive as he slowly passes away reflecting on his life and finding that he would not change a thing.
The season was winter and the snow was just starting to fall. As it fell an old man looked out of his window from his cabin on the hill. The tree was the only thing he had to protect his roof which was riddled with holes from the countless seasons he and his wife had endured before she passed away last Christmas leaving him all alone. As he looked at the snowy plains and the few evergreens that sported the last things that weren't white, he looked up. The snow began to puncture the roofs holes and instead of seeing the usual dead branches he saw the tree teaming with life.
The tree branches where shaking, trying to support a boy's light weight and the little girl next to him. She was wearing a pink dress. She was crying because she had tore it on a branch and the boy was comforting her in his arms. The old man blinked and the image dispersed leaving only dead branches and falling snow. "It was fun." The old man said with a childish gleam in his eyes. the snow was now covering everything and as the old man looked out his window and instead of seeing a blank field he saw three friends throwing snowballs at each other and laughing at the joyous time they where having. He smiled as he watched the imaginary children play. He was interrupted when he heard the sounds of two teens crying behind him. He looked and saw instead of the back of his shack, a grass field where a young man was holding a young woman as she cried in front of a coffin being lowered into the ground. He looked on, a tear being the only thing that actually showed that he remembered that day his best friend died.
he snapped out of the trance when he felt the icy chill of something other than snow. "Not a thing," he said. "wouldn't change a thing." He looked back out into the field and he gazed upon a grown up kneeling before a woman in bright red holding a ring and all she did was nod with earnest. He laughed a little and closed his eyes. Once he opened them he already knew what he would see. He saw a beautiful woman standing in front of her family wearing a white dress and the man walked up the isle to her. "Ha, I knew I was wearing a red rose!" He chuckled to himself remembering back to the time his wife almost killed him over such a small detail. He looked over to the kitchen where he used to make omelets for his wife in their 50's. He saw his favorite moment when she bit into said omelet and looked up to him with a smile.
The chill was reaching his stomach and he sat back for the last moment. A shining flash of brilliant light made him look forward and he saw the little girl with the torn dress standing in front of him. "Hi! It hasn't been long but I missed you," she said as she reached her hand out to him. He almost took her hand when she disappeared. "Well of course it hasn't been that long has it? only about one year." The girl from the snowball fight said standing to his right. She also reached her hand out to him. As he reached his hand out to her once again, she disappeared. "But every day seemed like an eternity to me." The teen standing to his left said; tears still fresh and trickling down her cheeks and once again reaching out to him. And once again he reached out to her and she dissipated like ashes in the wind.
Then he was beholding the beautiful woman in red, this time standing at the door way with her hand held out to him. "But now it will all be over and I can spend all of eternity with you," she said. The man, although wary, got up and struggled over to her, driven by his passion. As soon as he got to her he tripped and all was white. But then, instead of white, he saw bright green grass and the most beautiful woman wearing a white wedding dress with her hand extended to him. He stood up and this time instead of reaching out to her he just walked with her up the same place he did so many years ago.
At the end there was the girl, the child, the teen, the woman in red and the woman in the wedding dress. They all reached theur hand out and once they did all of their hands shaped one hand; the hand of an old woman that died on Christmas day. The hand of the woman that he married, the woman that he proposed to, the woman he comforted, the woman he played with, the woman he held in the tree, and most of all the woman for whom he had a burning passion, hotter than the scalding flames of hell; this hand he took and instead of disappearing, grabbed onto him and took him into a field of light. The old man looked at his love and she looked at him. Then he spoke. "No I wouldn't change a thing."
The man was not seen until a little boy that had run away from home found him. He was standing in the field, frozen solid, with a smile on his face that boldly stated that he did not care that he had died, he was happy.