Anxiety Bereavement Family Health Little Moments Moms Parenting

Storytelling…

August 5, 2016

His breathing slows.  Anthony is not moving. Muscles don’t spasm. 

I stand at the foot of his bed. I watch his chest rise and fall like the ocean waves.   

I turn to greet another mourner. Lou’s Aunt has arrived. I give her a quick kiss.  She smells of perfume.  Flowery, like a rose. That scent lingers as she moves to hug Joey. 

I take another look at my Anthony.  I cannot keep my eyes off him.  His last moments are here. The clock ticks the minutes away. 

The hospice room fills with people. It is crowded with tear-filled voices. I hear nothing. 

Anthony’s face changes color. A plum color replaces pink.  The ocean waves become a soft flutter in his chest.  

The end is near.  I move to his side.  

“Go, my sweet boy.  It is ok.”

“Go.”

đŸ’‹~Miranda

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