At Last - Theme Fridays
Posted on October 31, 2008 - Filed Under Family, Life, love, original fiction, theme fridays
At last, I sent my final breath into the atmosphere and I was free. The smell of antiseptic and the squeak of rubber-soled shoes couldn’t touch me anymore. And the colors of the stars were foreign sparklings in the sky that loved me.
I was a child again, teeming with energy and bright ideas. The world a playground and no longer a prison of tubes and pain killers, lethargy and waiting.
All the thoughts and concerns I’d not been able to voice at the end vanished and I couldn’t remember what the worry was in the first place.
Did you know that the moon does look like swiss cheese, close up?
Giddy with freedom and panoramic vision, I turned sommersaults in rarefied air. Giggling so much that if I’d still been stuck in that meatball of a body another drug for hysteria would have been prescribed.
But something pulled me back like flowers to the sun and I found myself hovering once again, in that familiar chamber of death. My lifeless body a curiosity - how shriveled and pale it had become. I felt no longing to return to it. Oh, but a longing I did feel. She was there. My bright girl, a huddle of tears and regrets. “Oh Daddy!”
“It’s okay, Kate,” I whispered in her ear but she could not hear me.
“What will I do without you?” she clutched the white, cold hand that was once mine.
“You’ll go on. You’ll get out of this hell-hole and see that life is out there, waiting for you, my darling girl.”
The nurse tried to pry Kate loose from the hospital bed and that sad room that tried to be happy with flowers and crayon drawings from the grand kids, family photographs, cards and boxes of chocolates dressed in gold lacy bows but never eaten. “Get away from me! I won’t leave him,” Kate threw off the woman’s hands.
Kate always had a fearsome streak that could wilt the steeliest of wills. The squeaky shoes hightailed it out of the room and enclosed Kate in my living tomb and I ached to release her from her chains. “You have to let go, dear,” I whispered again. “It’s time to let me go.”
Kate lasered a sharp look at my still body.
“That’s right, I’m here,” I said a little louder.
Alert mahogany eyes scanned the room. “Who is that?” she rasped.
She could hear me but would she listen? “It’s me, honey.”
More darting eyes, tears rose and threatened to spill over. “Daddy? Where are you?”
“I am in the ether and next to you. I am free. I’m in the air that you breathe, the sun that comes through the open window, the clouds in the sky. I am everywhere.”
And then Kate smiled and let go of my hand. She drew the sheets up to my chin and tucked me in and then planted a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Good bye, Daddy. I love you. I will always love you.”
And I saw the color rise again to her cheeks and her spine straighten as she stepped to the door, then paused. Kate turned back and looked at the shell that was once me and smiled. “You’re free, at last.”
copyright 2008
Christine’s at last moment here and Panther is at lasting here
Comments
13 Responses to “At Last - Theme Fridays”
Leave a Reply
[...] Annie, at last- [...]
Happy Halloween!
You too, Spidey.
WC
OMG! Good one! Totally bittersweet.
Thanks, Panther.
Annie
Oh!
This was touching and hopeful. Still, i thought of my dad and suffered of the wet eye.
Well written. Good story.
Hey Chica,
Thanks sweetie. Sorry it made you tear up and think of your dad, though.
Annie
veklempt - to be emotionally inhibited. I can go home now. I learned something new today *wink*
Well I don’t know about that…we were using the Saturday Night Live meaning - which means (or so we think) tearing up, choked up, unable to speak. You see?
Annie
Oh, this is so good! Best one yet, I think!
Hey MJ,
Thanks. I think I may be breaking new ground lately - this seems to be evidence of that.
Annie
Hey, Annie…
Me, again
Thankfully, I have not yet lost my Dad, but 3 of my 4 children did when my first husband died 10+ years ago. Reading your poignant words had me wondering how each of my sons must have felt at that time, and how they must still feel. I believe you have captured these delicate emotions accurately and compassionately with today’s post. Nice work.
Debi
P.S. Thank you for your kind words the last time I commented - you inspired me to write in my blog again!
Hey Debs!
I am so jazzed that you are writing on the blog again. I will definitely be by soon.
Yes, it is always very difficult to lose a parent, especially one who has suffered - and sometimes harder for us to let go, don’t you think?
Annie
Damn, damn, damn
You seem to understand things and feelings you seemingly have no right to understand.
You understand them in a way that is comforting, yet melancholy at the same time.
Kinda blown away here
Wonderful, deep, insightful words
No surprise from you, kiddo
~m
Hey Michael,
I was hoping this would speak to you - in many ways it seems it was written for you. A small gift from a friend is all.
Hugs,
Annie
Don’t be sorry.
i love my dad and it’s nice to think of him
but i miss him so i leak sometimes when i do.
Yes, I leak too sometimes when I think of my dad.
Annie
I read this again and just wanted to say how very much it moves me.
I can relate to every single word, feeling and thought.
To me, the post is a little boy’s wish . . .
thanks for putting it into words
~m
Michael,
I can’t tell you how much this means to me.
Annie
I am free. I’m in the air that you breathe, the sun that comes through the open window, the clouds in the sky. I am everywhere.”
Thank you Annie. Touched to tears too.
Love
Di
Aw Di, thank you honey. I’m glad this spoke to you, it has special meaning to me.
Love
Annie
Smiling, I mean.
Love
Di
I know, dear.
Annie
Just smiling….
Teary eyed, but smiling all the same
Yeah, I had a feeling….
Annie