Konis

A very short, somewhat random piece of creative nonfiction.

We buried my mother slowly, generously, until she surrendered to the dirt and begged us to turn all thoughts of her to ash. As a child, I called to her and asked for her mercy, entreated her to think only of me, but I stumbled, and she crumbled, and she begged.

 

We held her in our hands and spread her on the ground, achingly dispersed her until we had emptied ourselves of her. She's blown away now, I imagine, spread throughout the world. The universe pulled her into its arms and holds her tight, now, refusing to give her back to me.

 

I am fine now. I have forgotten, and I have progressed beyond her life. I have ceased to be her prideful shadow, I have merged with the scent of this season, I have endeavored to grow older.

 

My mother's death-sounds stay beside me, her howls and cries of fear. She worried that I might die without her, and one day, I will. She lay on the sofa week after week, misery pressed to her cheeks. I never heard a groan, but sometimes she sobbed as the hours slugged past. She waited there for death. Her eyes stopped focusing eventually, and she became trapped, unable to see whatever it was she sought.

 

I expected her to die, but I never imagined it. I fell asleep at night, and when I got out of bed the next day, they'd already taken her from me. I never touched her again, never heard her sounds nor viewed her face. They incinerated her.

 

I had already started to forget.

 

No one wanted to gather and say goodbye. Instead she sat on a dusty shelf while life went on. Months later we took her to the cemetery and tossed her to the ground. She fell upon the graves -- her brothers' and then her father's. There she spent some moments until the world carried her away again. The silence overwhelmed us until we had to move along. Through the grass, we dragged our feet, afraid to disturb someone's slumber. I whispered to myself, "Adieu," and time continued on.

 

We stopped for burgers on the way home, brought them to our mouths quietly, pulled our minds behind us. I fell asleep that night and woke up in the morning.