"I'm
afraid," I wheezed into the dark room, barely louder than the machines
tirelessly pumping air and blood and medicines to keep me alive.
She
turned her head, resting her cheek on the sheet next to my hip. She couldn't
hold my hand or lie next to me anymore. The slightest pressure tore tissue and
broke bones. I pushed my hand closer to her head and slipped my fingers into
her hair. That didn't hurt. Much.
"I'm
not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of ending. Being dead. Confined in a box and
buried in the earth. Or burned." I shuddered.
She
nodded silently, rubbing her head gently against my fingers.
"I
don't know what's going to happen next. I hope my spirit or consciousness will
stick around to haunt you, baby girl."
She
smiled, a slight twist of the lips that once laughed so freely.
I huffed
once and felt the choking threaten deep in my chest. I stilled and focused on
even breaths so I wouldn't tear my lungs up any further.
"But
I promise you, whatever I might be after this body dies, I will never. Ever.
Want to be in it again."
She did
laugh then. And cried. She nestled her head against my hip and closed her eyes,
humming the lullabies I used to sing to her every night.
"Come
away with me in the night..."
I closed
me eyes and felt her voice on my skin, sliding down my ears.
I would
miss this. Living.
#
#
And so, with a loving heart, I offer you
Namaste
I’ve heard many translations. Here’s my favorite:
The light of the universe that shines within me
recognizes
the light of the universe that shines within you.
#
