Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: In and Out (04/30/09)
TITLE: Final Whispers
By Deborah Ann Belka
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“Mom, can I get you anything?” I whisper softly through the beeps and hums that pulsate through my heart, reminding me they are counting down the minutes until . . . they go silent.
“No, dear I’m fine.” She barely whispers back.
Mom has been floating in and out of consciousness for hours. Unaware of her surroundings and what is going on around her. I hover at her side, all too aware of the hour, knowing these are her final whispers.
I reach for her thin frail hand and hold it, promising to myself not to let go until she did. I am determined to hold on for dear life. My life!
It is in this very second; while she is in her darkness, that I find myself blinded by the startling light of what is about to become. I wonder what lies between her darkness and my light and then I discover a timeless moment spent in the dimness of reality.
It is in this gray matter of space, when death comes and steals away someone you love, the heart must let go, but not the hand, never the hand.
The dimness lightens and I pray that God will take her and give her rest. Yet, I hold on tighter than ever.
“Where’s your daddy?” She voicelessly asks.
I know how much she wants to see him. But, I tell her he won't be able to come and see her today. Through the haze I think she understands, but I can’t be sure.
“Harold, is that you?”
“I thought I saw you today, but they say that cannot be. Why is that? Why won’t they let me see you?”
“Oh, Harold I just don’t understand why they want to keep you away from me.”
I know the time is getting closer. My heart can feel her leaving. My hand trembles, as if I have been in a tug of war and I am tired of pulling her back from the edge. I notice a single lone tear roll down her check.
“Mom, can you hear me?” I ask.
I cannot bare the silence.
“Everything will be ok, mom.” I try to assure her.
I think she hears me when I see a faint smile cross her lips. "Mom, mom," I cry out.
“Bertie, I am over here, come and give me your hand.”
“Oh, Harold there you are. I knew I would find you and that you would never leave me. She places her hand in his and he gives it that old familiar squeeze.”
“Bertie, you old blister, I sure have missed you. What’s taken you so long?”
“Mom, mom can you hear me?" I grasp both her hands now into mine. "Its ok, go be with God and daddy.”
As the hums and beeps go silent, I feel her squeeze my hand just the way daddy use to.
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