[ WP ] A man pushes an empty swing .

For as long as I can remember, I've seen old man Saunders pushing the swing on the tree in his front lawn. I never really thought much of it, because it was just an every day thing. I'd come home from school, and I'd pass Saunders' house just in time to catch him pushing the empty swing. He never really did have much of an expression when he did it; something between a hallowed soul and a joyful, revenant light. 
 
 It was n't until I was 17 that I grew curious about it. So I went downstairs and asked my mother about it. She told me the story, and by the time she finished, the world was blurry through the tears in my eyes. 
 
 My mother told me that Saunders was once married. Her name was Eileen, and she was the kindest woman she'd ever had the good fortune of knowing. Eileen was beautiful, her blonde grey hair short and curled, her hazel eyes sparkling with life, her smile -- soft and gentle -- brightening any room she was in. 
 
 Eileen had grown up in a small house with 5 brothers and sisters. She was the eldest and had to help take care of them. Their father was n't the recipient of any Father of the Year awards, though. He had problems keeping his anger and drinking under control. So, when he'd have a few, he'd get even angrier at the world. And he'd take it out on his children. Eileen was always there to protect her siblings, though. If he'd come at one of them with a hand or belt, she'd step in and take the beating for them. Nights of busted lips and black eyes, and wounded bodies were an often occurrence. 
 
 Her mother was too afraid to leave until it was too late. One night he had a few too many, and lost even more control of his rage. Eileen woke up the next day in the hospital with a broken clavicle. She then did what her mother would n't do, and turned in her father to the police. She was my age at the time, and left home, taking her brothers and sisters with her, their mother deemed unfit for parenting. She swore an oath to herself and her siblings, that she would never lose her temper or strike any of them. 
 
 They got a room at a motel in town, just until she made enough money to get them a home. It took a few months, but she finally did it. It was n't anything fancy or big, but it was just enough to accommodate all of them. Her younger brother, the eldest boy, had gotten old enough to get a job of his own and help out. With the additional money, they were able to expand the house. They added rooms, and as the years went on, they added another floor. Her youngest brother grew to be quite savvy with building. He made their house beautiful. 
 
 My mother gestured across the street, where Saunders was pushing the swing, the same expression on his face as every other day. 
 
 It was that house that her brother fixed up. It's different than any other house on the street, because the rest of the homes were torn down and rebuilt. But Saunders and his wife refused to let their home be remade. Her brother died in battle, remembered as a hero. 
 
 When Eileen was 22 years old, she met old man Saunders -- whose name was Jim, apparently. Her brothers had been drafted to war, and had to have work done on the house. So, she hired Jim. He worked for his father and came from a loving home. His parents never got into big fights, just small arguments over the usual things. He was never hit, never had to look out for his siblings because their parents neglected them for anything else. 
 
 So he came over and fixed up a leak in the ceiling for her. And I guess it was love at first sight. He took her out on many dates, they were together about 2 years before he proposed to her. He had her siblings all in on it, everyone who loved her. Under the light of the moon and stars, he got on one knee and asked her to join him in life. She, of course, said yes, and they wed later that week in the church. It was nothing fancy, and wore a white sun dress, and he was in his best getup. 
 
 They never started a family, seeing no need since they had all of her siblings who were like their children. They were the most sincerely sweet couple you could ever know; at least that's what my mom tells me. Every new family that moved in on the street, they were the first to welcome them. They'd make you food, send pies over, invite you to theirs for coffee or tea. Never once would see see either of them angry, or violent. 
 
 Jim's favorite thing was to make Eileen smile and laugh. So he built her a swing on the tree in their front lawn. She'd sit down and he'd push her, and she'd beam a smile as radiant as the stars. Her laugh bringing life to the world around her. Nothing made Saunders happier than seeing her experiencing such innocent joy. 
 
 Then Eileen started to become forgetful. It started out small with things that could easily be blamed on aging, like forgetting to add sugar to a pie. But then it became more prevalent. She started forgetting the names of her neighbors, her friends. She'd forget where she was, saying she needed to see Jim, who was standing at her side. Unfortunately, her Alzheimer's made her slightly violent. She'd try to pick fights with her siblings and husband. She started arguing with the neighbors over things that did n't happen -- at least not recently. 
 
 Eventually, she forgot the names of her brothers and sisters. She could no longer recall her brother who died defending the country. Family that was once like her children were now strangers invading her home. And the only thing that seemed to keep her happy and help her forget all she was forgetting, was swinging in the front lawn. Every day, like clockwork, Jim would take Eileen outside and push her on the swing, hearing her laugh and hoot. 
 
 One day, he took her outside and pushed her on the swing. She had a greater than she normally did. And that night, she took her last breath. My parents were awoken by the sirens and lights. Jim was outside, sitting on the curb with his head in his hands. It was a difficult day for the neighborhood. And the day that followed, Saunders was outside, pushing an empty swing, the same expression that he has to this day. 
 
 Every day, like clockwork, that old man would push an empty swing, and remember the sound of laughter coming from the love of his life.
