Aurora Borealis

Tim looked out the window in the plane and down at the vast expanse of the Alaskan wilderness. “It’s beautiful,” he thought to himself. “More beautiful than the pictures I’ve seen.”

He was on his way to Alaska for the first time. It was a trip that was years in the making, having been pushed back time and again due to different circumstances and excuses. His dad had always wanted the two of them to go together, but Tim had been skeptical of the idea at first. “Yeah, not sure if I like the idea of freezing my balls off,” Tim had told his old man when he initially brought up the idea.

“You live in New York Fucking City. Aren’t you used to the cold there? We can go during the summer when it’s warmer,” Tim’s dad laughed in reply.

“Okay. But maybe not this year,” Tim insisted. “Kari wants to put some money towards landscaping our backyard this year. Not sure if we can afford a trip right now.” Tim and his wife had recently bought a new house, just outside the city. They were on a strict budget.

“That’s alright, son. Just let me know when you think you’re able to--whenever that is,” he replied.

Tim nodded, “Yeah, yeah, dad. I’ll let you know. I promise. But why Alaska?” Tim had been raised in the big city. He wasn’t outdoorsy and when he traveled with Kari, they enjoyed visiting tourist landmarks, eating at different nice restaurants, and walking the streets of beautiful, brightly lit cities.

“Aurora Borealis,” Tim’s dad responded almost dreamily. “I want to see it one day. It’s been on my bucket list for years.”

“Ohh, yeah. That would be beautiful, I bet. Good choice, dad. Well, we can’t go, but why don’t you just go? Grab that friend of yours from your poker nights...what was his name again? Jason? I’ll watch the dogs for you.”

Tim’s dad smiled. “Yeah, I guess I could. Thought I’d ask you first, you know?”

Tim was annoyed at his dad’s insistence on hanging out together. Tim wanted to say, “Take a hint, dad! I’m busy!” Instead, Tim replied, “Well, thanks for thinking of me, dad. We’ll do something together soon. I promise. Let’s go fishing in a few weeks, yeah?”

“Sure, son. Sure.”

Tim replayed the memory in his mind a few more times. He smiled and pulled his eyes away from the window seat to look at the man sitting next to him. But it wasn’t his father that was sitting next to him. The man to his left was a stranger. The flight from New York City had been a long one, and the man was sleeping—snoring gently, mouth slightly open. Tim shifted in his seat to be sure to not disturb the sleeping man.

The pilot’s voice broke Tim’s thoughts. “We would like to thank you for flying with us. We’ll be landing in Anchorage in 30 minutes where the local time is 5:00 PM.” The man stirred awake and yawned dramatically. He took notice of Tim fidgeting in his seat. Tim accidentally touched his arm while adjusting his seat forward. Tim mumbled a soft apology.

“Oh, no problem. Sorry. Definitely dozed off there for a little bit,” the big man chuckled. “Not going to lie, I love waking up to a plane that’s almost landing. It’s the best feeling ever.”

Tim smiled back and asked, “Yeah, I bet. You live in Alaska?"

The big man responded, “Visiting, visiting. Got some family up here. Such a drag, you know? What about you? Are you visiting family up here?”

Tim’s mind pondered a few seconds before finally responding, “You could say something like that.”

Tim’s dad had passed away a few months back. Cancer. The diagnosis revealed that he had stage 4 pancreatic cancer, a notoriously difficult disease to catch early. It wasn’t long before the sickness had spread to other organs. The cancer disabled him and forced him to hospice care as his health quickly deteriorated.

Tim was the last person in the room with his father when he passed. The memory still was as real and vivid as the man sitting next to him. They were in the hospital room. Holding his hand, Tim’s dad had looked at him and weakly asked, “So how about that trip to Alaska? You still owe me a trip.”

Tim laughed. Even when he was in pain, his father still had a sense of humor. “Of course, dad. We’ll go. I promise.”

Despite the lightheartedness of the ribbing, Tim couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in his stomach. His dad smiled at him.

Tim recalled the memory as he drove the rental car to his hotel. He gripped the wheel tightly and began sobbing. “I’m so sorry, dad.”

Tim was usually an emotionally composed person, but at that moment in the car, he let the tears flow. When the sobbing became uncontrollable, he pulled the car into a parking lot, shifted the gear into park, and threw his head back. He began to slam his head back against the headrest repeatedly, yelling as loud as he could. Tim felt he had let his dad down. He had pushed aside his dad’s requests to spend time with him repeatedly. His dad was now gone and there’s nothing that could bring him back. The guilt was intense. The shame roared inside of him. The sadness overwhelmed him.

After a few minutes, Tim stopped crying. He slammed his palms down on the steering wheel and let out a deep sigh. Another memory flooded Tim’s mind.

The memory took him back years. He was a teenager. He recalled stepping into his father’s study one day. His father was sitting back in his chair, reading a letter in one hand and flipping his prized half-dollar coin over repeatedly in the other. For as long as Tim remembered, his dad had always had that coin--using it as a sort of stress reliever when he played with it.

When Tim’s father noticed Tim in the doorway, he put the letter down, giving Tim his undivided attention. “What’s up, son?” The coin was still in his hand, however.

“Dad, I have something to tell you. You’re not going to like it. I totally dented the driver side of your car. I opened the door too fast and hit the car that was parked next to me at the store.” Tim braced for his father’s fury. He didn’t know why he did. His father wasn’t one to ever lose his temper, much less at him. He’s never even raised a hand against his son. Yet his dad’s response surprised him.

“And...?” Tim’s father asked slowly. “What happened? Did you give the owner of the car your contact information?”

“Well, no. I panicked and left. I’m sorry.”

Tim’s dad gazed at his son sternly. “Son, that’s not right. That’s called a hit and run.” Tim opened his mouth and began to protest, but Tim’s dad cut him off quickly. “I don’t want your apologies. It’s not me you wronged. It’s the owner of that car. I want you to go back to the store and make things right.”

“But Dad! That person could be gone by now!” Tim protested.

“Make it right,” Tim’s dad sternly said. “It’s what you have to do. Also, once you come back home, you’re grounded.”

Teenage Tim whined, “What? You’re going to ground me still? That’s not fair!”

Tim’s dad held his ground, “When you do something wrong, you own it. You make things right. You don’t dwell on it or run away. It does nobody any good. You’ll see what I’m talking about when you’re older.” Tim’s father picked up his letters and began reading again, signaling he was done with the matter.

Present Tim took a deep breath and opened his eyes after remembering his dad’s words. “It’s time to make things right.” Tim pulled out his phone, opened up Google Maps, and found his destination. He set out on his course.

The drive lasted a few hours as Tim headed north. When he arrived at his destination, it was pitch dark. He shifted the car into park. He had found himself at a parking lot of a trailhead. Tim climbed out of the vehicle and looked up at the sky. It was there—the Aurora Borealis. The pictures he had seen of the Northern Lights were always captivating, but seeing it in person was an entirely different and surreal experience. The green lights shimmered, hugging the night sky delicately. As he gazed at the night sky, Tim felt a wave of different emotions flood through him--gratitude, amazement, calm, happiness. Tim walked over to a nearby bench, just off the entrance to the trail and sat down. He looked up at the sky and began crying.

When Tim decided it was time to go, he didn’t know what time it was. He had been traveling non-stop all day. He was exhausted and tired, but he had one last thing to do. Tim reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his father’s prized possession, the half-dollar coin. He flipped it over in his hand, smiling warmly before returning the coin into his pocket.

Tim walked a few paces off the trail. He found a large, tall tree with sharp needles, protruding from its many branches. Tim reviewed the tree intently with his eyes and decided this was the spot. Tim crouched down on one knee in front of the tree and began scooping a hole in front of the tree with his hands. He dug a few inches deep. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the coin again. A rush of emotions swept through him and he started tearing up. He gave the coin one last look before gently placing it in the hole he had just created. He buried the half-dollar coin.

Tim slowly walked towards the car, fumbling for his keys. When he managed to unlock his door, he turned around, facing the tree where he had just planted his father’s coin. He turned his gaze upwards, staring at the stunning green glow of the Northern Lights again. Tim smiled gently and whispered, “I’m glad I made it up here with you, dad.”

He climbed into his rental car, started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot and started to head towards his next destination.