A Story for Rebecca

It was bright and cloudless the day they made the final decision; sunny, but not hot because of the delightful wind that wreaks havoc with stray hair and wayward leaves. She was sitting on the curb of the parking lot that belongs equally to the nearby church and hospital feeling a bit forlorn, having recently escaped the stifling confines of a hospital room crowded with members of her extended family. It was not that she felt nothing that she was outside while the rest of her family grieved by her grandmother’s bedside. She did not know how to comfort people, did not know how to be both eloquent and soothing, to say the right words at the appropriate time and to accompany all of the above with a warm gesture to show that she cared. At times, she wondered intermittently whether the people who were able to remain articulate were sincere or merely repeating like automatons what they feel is expected of them. Her arms ached to hold her mother but hung uselessly at her side as her mother resisted various attempts to be touched. Watching her family consoling each other in soft voices, she had never felt so awkward or so hopelessly inarticulate for a very long time.

It felt like a sick cosmic joke. She was not particularly close to her grandma, who lived in another part of the metropolis until her recent move to a senior’s home close by. After spending years on a waiting list, a spot had finally opened up, causing much excitement in the family. She remembered visiting the senior’s home with her mother and being shown around the facilities by her enthusiastic grandmother. It was a pity that she would never get the chance to experience how it is to really live there. When her grandmother’s state failed to improve, she felt like God was spitting on her, the sporadic rain adding to the effect.

She was not angry, not really. Confused and slightly guilty by the fact that she appeared to be grieving the least out of her entire family, she mulled the situation over many times, turning it over and over in her head as well as openly discussing it with a close friend. There was nothing in her grandmother’s life that called for regret, none at all. She had raised seven children, watched them get married and have children of their own. She was even lucky enough to witness many of her grandchildren grow up and form their own families, a rare occurrence even in the ever increasing lifespan of today’s society. She lived a full and fruitful life and would soon leave the world as peacefully as she was born. What more can we ask than to die a painless death, surrounded by the ones we love?

It seemed fitting that the weather was so beautiful; the dread that hung like ominous storm clouds over them blown away to reveal a sky that opened directly up to the heavens. She took courage from the beautiful rays of sunshine directly overhead and made her way back to the room. It was almost noon.

As they pulled the plug and severed the line that tethered her grandmother to life, she walked over and added her arms to those of her sisters’ around their mother. She did not tell anyone that everything will be okay, that everything will be fine, that it was for the best. They were a family and they were together, and at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.