Time Heals

SM

The following article contains elements of parental death and medical-related trauma. Reader discretion is advised.

My mother is fading fast now. Her presence slipping from my life, Like sweat off the skin, On a scorching summers day.

She is mostly absent, Mostly on the end of a phone, In a land of otherness. (Sometimes not even there.)

I watched her today, As her smile faltered, And her breath quickened, (when her heart stumbled.)

As doctors rattled off orders. (Sometimes I pretend I’m in a diner). That the order’s for a serve of fries. Rather than for the defibrillator.

I keep my breathing steady, Closing my eyes, opening again. Desperately ignoring, As the arms of death try to (embrace her.)

The darkness reaching out, Talons grasping and pulling— Gaping maws consuming— Every facet of self.

They notice my stare and laugh. Taking more, Taking faster— Greedily snatching up what they want.

She ripples, Becoming, slowly, Translucent. (Where I cannot reach her).

Hands shaking, Breath rasping, Tears falling, As she does.

Succumbing to the pulling hands, And deeper depths of death.

“It would be kinder to let her go” My head snaps round, shaking becomes contagious, vision fogging up.

I couldn’t figure which was worse— The mind outlasting the body, —Or the body outlasting the mind. T’was the former (for mine.)

Stumbling to express herself, To breathe through the pain. There is nothing worse, in this world, Than seeing your parents cry.

(Someone told me that once), I concluded it was true. Watching my father sob, Agony overriding other sense.

Hours on computers searching for answers, (Which could not be found). Trying to throw out a lifesaving ring, To pull her back in.

Boxing at the shadows jumping out to steal her. But there is a worse thing, As the dinging of the life support ceased. Infinitely worse— (watching a parent die).