The Window Seat

Window seat … who doesn’t love the window seat?

“Why can’t I ever get the window seat,” the little girl complained as she was sat down in the back of the family car between her older siblings. She hated being the youngest at times like these. Her spirit wanted to soar outside those windows! But she had to be content with looking at the back of her parent’s heads as they drove. She was full of anticipation though because of the marvelous view of the mountains that surrounded her. She could at least see them from her low vantage point in the middle of the back seat!

“Hey kids! Looks like that Indian, Falling Rock, was here again,” her Dad joked as he pointed out the sign that read “Beware of falling rock”. Just then she caught a glimpse of him winking at her in the rear view mirror. She loved him for that.

All grown up, the little girl was now a young woman. No longer daddy’s little girl. She sighed as she remembered him and knew she would miss him a lot. He had died too soon. But she could not think about that now because soon she would be taking her first flight on a real airplane! “Are there any window seats available?” she asked as she prepared to book her flight. Ah, great!

A child sat behind her on the plane and said spoke excitedly to his mother in the next seat. “Look, Mom! So many white clouds!” Yep, she thought to herself, that Indian, White Cloud, must be here again. She chuckled to herself and looked out the window seat imagining seeing her Dad sitting there with White Cloud on a white cloud! She loved looking out the window seat.

She was a woman now about to be married. Everyone was running around making last minute checks but the bride was not to be found. She wanted to be alone … to think … to reflect. To sit in her grandmother’s old rocking chair and somehow absorb the wisdom that still resided there. They should have known she could be found thoughtfully looking out the window from where she sat …

She watched as her husband of twenty years lie in the hospital bed. He was asleep. It was the middle of the night and she was alone with him. Visiting hours were long past but the doctor told her she could stay. It would not be long now. She stared at him lovingly. Life was not always perfect but she knew love. She had given it and received it … nothing else mattered. A nurse came in with a can of soda for her. She just looked at her helplessly, aware that she could not even pop open the can. Like Florence Nightingale she touched her back and rubbed it a bit, “Here let me get that for you,” she said and opened the can then poured the liquid into a plastic cup. When it was empty she walked over to the trash can that was behind her at the window. The window! She hadn’t even noticed that it was dark outside. She watched as the nurse left the room.

Her eyes came back to the man lying there. He looked different. He is only sleeping she remembered. But she knew … he would not be with her much longer. A sudden chill came over her. What? She looked at her husband again but did not see him. She saw a body lying there but not her husband. Where had he gone? It was not time yet. She would know. He promised her that. So where is he?

A fog came in through the space at the bottom of the door, between the door and floor. She watched it float into the room. It crossed in front of her. Her eyes followed it as it moved pass her. It stopped at the window seat. Then she saw him, her husband. He was sitting there looking out the window … waiting.

Window seat … who doesn’t love the window seat?

The Window Seat

Judi Taylor

Stowe, United States

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Artist's Description

Memories of all the window seats of life.

Artwork Comments

  • aspectsoftmk
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