December 18th, 2011 - November 11th, 2017

EPILOGUE

A Life Long Lived

He stirred from his sleep, groggy, as he always did. His sight, blurred, met the ceiling, as it always did. His alarm rang out its greeting, right on time, as it always did.

Grumbling, he pushed himself off his bed, leaving the sweet peace of sleep behind. With his hand, he patted the alarm, putting it to rest.

Without having to look up, he walked himself to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. The path, much like so much else, was etched into his mind and was thus trekked with hardly any effort.

He eyed over his reflection. He was an old man now, much older than most men would usually get, but not in appearance. He had lived far longer than most, and he felt it in his soul. He was beyond ancient. He had faced the full force of time, the numbing pain of life, and yet he had gone no farther than a single day. . . .

He sighed and pressed his hands to his face.

"I wonder if there's anything left," he said, not expecting anyone to answer him. Nobody ever did.

But, who was he to complain? He was used to it now. What, after so many long years, was time but an annoyingly devoted partner? A weight you had to feel but didn't mind because you were stuck this way, like two castaways in the same boat, drifting along an ever-changing sea with no destination in sight.

He gazed out the window and up at the sky: another blue display with just a touch of cirrus. He smiled slightly. That was something special about the sky: it's always there, always changing, never in the present.

"Everything changes," he muttered. "Everything but me. . . ."

He heard the usual noises, not paying them any mind, for like so many things, he had no choice or say in the matter.

So, imagine his surprise when something totally unexpected reached his ears that morning.

"YES!" came a loud, young, jubilant voice — one he recognized too well.

Gaylord Robinson jolted to his senses as though woken through ice water. His heart may have just restarted itself. Surprised, he raced back to the window and peered across to the small blue house where the cheer had come.

"Was that . . . no," he said, sure he imagined it. He must have. He's lived for so long that his mind must've finally gone to seed.

But then he heard another new sound: a soft muttering that carried no audible words, yet was as clear to Mr. Robinson as the cheerful cry a few seconds ago.

"Margaret?" he asked, surprised.

Now serious, he jolted downstairs and found his grouchy wife in the kitchen, seated at the table eating a bowl of Boring brand bran flakes.

"Meh-meh-meh," she muttered, hardly moving her lips.

"Uh . . . morning, dear," he said, hardly able to believe it. Looking over to the counter, much to his surprise, he saw the single slice of apple pie from the other day sitting under the glass.

Mr. Robinson's eyes glazed over, his mouth hanging open. Margaret, becoming ever more puzzled by her husband's bizarre expressions, looked over her shoulder and saw the pie.

"Meh-meh-meh-meh-meh," she muttered bitterly.

"Wha?" Mr. Robinson asked. "N-No, Margaret, just . . ." He looked at the clock, then out the kitchen window, the blue side of the neighbor's house visible.

Then Mr. Robinson did something he rarely ever did.

He smiled. "Just waking up, dear. That's all."

With a light chuckle, Gaylord sat down and ate breakfast with his wife. The two passed their time berating the lousy politicians in office, and Gaylord Robinson savored every second of the conversation, even the parts his wife threw back in his face like a venomous rival.

With a sigh of satisfaction, he stared over at the remaining slice of pie. "Good work, kid."

And though he didn't hear him, Gumball felt thankful enough as he ate breakfast with his own family. After the surprising behavior he exhibited upon waking, his parents and siblings assumed it was just excess energy from yesterday.

"Wow," said Richard in high spirits. "Maybe I should buy a whole wardrobe of ties."

With breakfast over, Nicole hugged her children goodbye, planting an extra kiss on Gumball's forehead.

"Bye, Mom," the three children said as she drove off.

"Bye, Dad," they added, waving their father off as he began his morning ritual of TV watching.

Together, the two brothers and sister boarded the school bus, Rocky being the first to greet them, as always.

Gumball sighed happily. "Nice to know some things remain the same."

Taking his seat between Darwin and Anais in the very back, Gumball noticed two new changes as the bus left the street. Sitting in the seat in front of them, Rachel, with her new MP3 player in hand, waved to the siblings. Directly across the row from her, Penny and Carrie were seated together. Their smiles were kind and gentle, to which Gumball happily returned.

And as the bus rode off toward its eventual destination, Gumball worried not for what lay ahead, but chose, instead, to experience what was already before him. From his friendly brother and wise sister, his lazy but joyous dad, his faithful and caring mother, and the two girls he adored, he couldn't think of doing anything else but cherish them as they currently were.

In the end, it was another new day — another day in this crazy, surprising, but no less amazing world. Thank goodness.

THE END