Letters to the heart

 

  It’s the subconscious that dwells on it.  Feels a longing desire to picture her, reach out somehow and touch her, touch the feeling her presence wrapped my heart in during the moments when life was hardest.

  It knows life is the same for all humans that walk the path of life.  Were born, we live, we die.  Yet, something inside of me screams with pain.  Yes, we all loose loved ones and tumble helplessly for a time, maybe we never really stop, I don’t know.

  All I really know is there’s a vacancy sign hanging on my heart, now that the tears have ceased, a void that I constantly pick at exists around the wound, bleeds and bleeds as my subconscious relives ...

 

  The building was familiar to me having walked its quiet halls many times.  The faint trace of disinfectant masking the smell of death tickling my nose hairs, the disinterested, slightly annoyed expressions of the emergency staff sitting behind the reception desk, and the down trodden expressions displayed on the faces of my fellow condemned.  Yet, something was different when I walked through the automatic sliding doors that day.  My subconscious recollects the doors as a guillotine falling upon my mother’s innocent neck upon reflection, the final curtain in the life of a lady from a past age of respect, courage, and perseverance that has somehow escaped a large portion of our generation.

  The halls seemed quieter than my subconscious remembered, maybe it was my recognition of her bells final tolling, maybe it was my desire to be with her always, but my subconscious remembers the quiet that seemed to have fallen over the hospital that day.  Recollects the looks that the doctors and nurses had upon my arrival at her door, and the sadness it evoked in my heart.  I knew the sun would not shine tomorrow, the light of my life was fading into oblivion without me, and something inside of me died. 

  The door felt heavier than anything I had ever felt, my arm felt weak and helpless, my heart was adrift on a sea of hate.  Pushing the door forward aged me in ways I can never explain, but I’m sure many understand in their own way.  How do you say goodbye?  How do you convey the love you feel one more time?  How do you survive the loss of someone whose presence in your life was your life?

  The door slowly closing seemed to bring a cloud of doubt down around my life and existence.  I could hear her breathing, heavy, out of natural timing; her body was rebelling against its existence. 

  The light returned to her eyes as I sat down beside her, brought her out of her resigned sleep, and the warmth returned to her eyes once again.  I would die to again touch the feeling the love in her eyes gave me and is still able to give me at times.  Happily leave this existence if I could find away to reach her, if this sounds sad, then I guess it is.

  I wrapped her cold hands in mine, looked into her loving eyes, and asked her if there was anything I could do to make her feel better, more comfortable, she merely smiled and motioned me closer.

  Kissing me on the forehead seemed to drain her of her last reserves, “You are my son, I love you, and will always be with you, never forget, I am but a thought away.”

  “Are you mad?” she asked.

  “No, just frustrated, mom”

  “Don’t be sad my dear, I have lived and loved, and have few regrets.”

  “You will have to learn to cope without me.”

  “Be strong and remember what I have taught you.”

  “Stick close to your brother, he is all you have now.”

  “Why do people hate, mom?”

  “Worry not about the things you have no control over my son, keep my love in your heart always, I will always be there waiting for you when you need me most.”

  “Do you think you’ll see grandma, mom?”

  “Who knows?  It is a wish of mine, so fear not, I know how you will  long to see me once again.”

  “I’m sorry if I ever disappointed you mom, I know you wanted me to marry and have children, but at least you got to see Bryce’s first year and you have memories to treasure, until we are together again.”

  I smiled the brightest smile I could muster, warmly looked into her loving eyes and told her how much I loved her one last time.  She smiled the broadest smile I had ever seen her smile, took a deep, deep, breath and her eyes closed for the last time.  I could feel her grip tighten around my fingers as her breathing lessened slowly, feel the life leave her body and enter me one last time.

  My subconscious remembers, my heart longs, my life is a living memory of everything she showed me about life and living.  Her grandchild Bryce, my little nephew, still talks about the grandma he barely new as an infant, still remembers the love he felt when he was only a year old, love is an amazing thing to witness between humans, even after we think it has gone, it’s still changing, moulding our very  existence.

  I would  like to leave you with this final poem,

 

When I close my eyes in sunlight’s sight, I see her smiling face shining bright.

Sweet, warm, tendrils of her arms, embrace my heart in memories of her love so warm.

 

When I open my eyes in sunlight’s sight, cold, white, stone greets my sight.

Teardrops heal, her sun reveals,  and the darkness around my heart recedes.