Demise Left a Scar

My attempt at a short story that I know is too long.

Beep…. Beep…. Beep….

 

         The monitor continued to sing the song I had been listening to for the past three days, only this time that’s all I could hear. It seemed so vibrant, so much so that I could almost see the waves it created. With every beep, my heart raced in anticipation of the next.

         Light beamed through the window like a ragging animal demanding that it’s presence be known. Blue skies were accompanied by cotton-like clouds steadily rolling on to a new place, leaving me behind and wishing that I was going with them. Gray tiled floors reflected the movement, the light, everything as if it were a mirror. The four walls were tainted by a daffodil yellow providing, oddly enough, a particular comfort to a gruesome and unbearable situation.

         It had only been ten minutes since the silence started with the only interruption breaking it coming from the left corner of the room. My eyes filled with tears at the thought of death almost winning yet another war. A war that had been fought for over two years, destroying everything in its way. Agony twisted inside of me, gripping my ribcage and pulling inward until my inhalation was almost non-existent. A tear escaped, rolling over my luscious cheeks leaving a stream of evidence that it had been there before splashing onto the cold floor below me.

         I glanced down at the hand that gripped mine with so much love and regret, replaying the attempts over and over again in my head. I tried. I tried to get to know you better. I sent you letters, hoping that you would return them with the utmost love, care, and compassion that you received from yours truly. Where were you? Why didn’t you respond? I retract. Response was given, but only just once. I wanted more. I still want more.

I wish… I wish we had more time. Let the hands keep making their rounds but let us be able to stand still and stop the minutes from ticking away. Get to know me. Ask me questions. Love me.

Tragically, your ending is near. I see that now, even in denial and pain I can see the vivacity diminishing quickly. I never knew that someone so foreign to me would make me so humble, so vulnerable. How do you do that? When is your birthday? What is your favorite color?

The questions rolled through the floodgates, spilling into my mind and never making a sound because I knew. I knew it was too late. Too late to have a conversation with the one individual who remained a mystery in my life even though he was laying right here. Right in this very bed.

Darkness stretched over me as the minutes started to feel like hours. Noises in the hallways distracted my gaze off of your wondrous, horrifying appearance. Your caregivers are here in an attempt to make you feel more complacent. What more could they do?

I observed their movements as they repositioned your pillows a bit and listened to your breathing. Watching the movements of the stethoscope and the rising and falling of your chest in unison, was like watching the dance of life in a moment of bliss. A smile came upon me. You’re still here.

The stains my tears had left made their appearance known as I turned my head to address the gentleman’s questions, allowing the air to roll over the wet trail they had left behind. “How is he today?” asked the over-enthusiastic but genuine gentleman. We’ve had conversations over the past few days that had seemed a little more hopeful and optimistic. However, today optimism was not an option. “He has been sleeping since last night and hasn’t really been awake since. Or at least that is the update that I got when I arrived this morning about two and a half hours ago” I responded looking at the clock in disbelief.

It was almost noon and I couldn’t even fathom how the day had gotten away from me. I watched as they reached in to get your dentures out, seeing as you no longer had the strength to keep them in their proper placement any longer. A sigh escaped me, being chased by an overflow of water that was fixing to rear its head very soon. A couple more questions, comments, and concerns went in one ear and out the other over the next few moments. I never thought I would be ready for the silence again so soon.

Soft, whimsical tunes filled the air as they exited the room that had since become my everything. Realization came back to me that the beeping occurring wasn’t yours, but everyone else’s around you monitoring their vitals and current way of life. I had forgotten that they had taken yours away the previous evening, replacing it with soothing and calming soundwaves flowing throughout the room. The replacement happened after we had left for the evening.

The music encouraged me to scoot a little closer, softly running my thumb across your fragile hand. I could feel the warmth starting to diminish and disappear, leaving me alone in a cold and bitter anticipation. It’s happening.

Struggle presented itself, causing your breathing to have a voice. Gurgle on inhale. Gurgle on exhale. I wanted so bad to look away but everything in me kept my eyes on your face, waiting for you to open your eyes and talk to me. Please just talk to me. I just want to hear your voice one more time like I had so much in the last few days. Oh, how I missed it so much.

“It’s okay Grandpa. It’s okay to let go now. We are all here and everything is going to be okay. It’s okay to go. We love you and just don’t want you to suffer anymore.” I prayed that he could hear my plea. I know that he knows it’s just him and I in here. Strength accompanied my weakness in the time of need. Encouragement was my aid against wanting to give up.

Bubbly breathing is more common now, making it more and more difficult for you to pass life throughout your vessel. Not the good or happy kind either. The color is starting to fade away, leaving a rather ghostly appearance behind. It won’t be long now.

You are starting to slide and slump down in the bed, leaning in my direction with me wanting nothing more than to hold you and comfort you through this last, difficult journey. Sorrow is my friend as well as the waterworks. I watched your labored breathing and matched mine to yours. Your chest is still rising and falling. You’re still here. Your grip is loosening as mine is getting tighter, trying to hold on to you for as long as I can. I hope you know I’m here. Weakness is spreading along with the cold, the paleness.

“I love you grandpa.” Your eyes opened, seeing something that only someone in your position would be able to fathom. “I love you” escaped from your lips in a soft and silent whisper. I heard you. I love you too.

A woman has joined us but she won’t be visiting for long. Anonymously, she sits and waits with us holding your other hand in your time of too soon a departure. Its uncontrollable. This has to stop. I don’t want you to suffer anymore!

You slump just a smidge more, allowing any resistance you have left to dissipate. The rising and falling has come to an all-time slow. I can’t look but I can’t stop watching either. This is too much. I can’t handle this.

Deep within myself, I muster the strength to stay with you. Three seconds of silence. I can see the pulse slowing in the main artery of your neck. Five seconds. No…NO! Nothing….

Every sensation flooded me all at once. Every minute, every tear, every breath. It all happened so fast. Was that it? Are you gone? I squeezed your hand, hoping you would reciprocate…. but you didn’t. your journey has come to an end and alas my purpose has been served. Even in that moment of feeling so helpless and weak, strength overpowered it. Thank you. How can you miss someone you barely even knew? This question raced through my mind as the only thing I could give an audience to was the monitors of the neighbors.

 

Beep…. Beep…. Beep….

Author's Note

All questions, comments, concerns are welcome!