Never to Part

         I kept running, as fast as I could, anything to get away.  They were wrong.  No matter what they said, no matter what the doctors said, no matter what anybody said, she would never leave me.  Science could prove me wrong, everything could prove me wrong, but doubt would never overtake me.  I was determined to keep my mind made, to keep my faith strong.  Science and facts and logic couldn’t define or control her.  She hated all of them.  That was one of the things that made her special.

         “Ugh.” I needed to stop.  It had been twenty minutes, and a blinding pain was beginning to form in my side.  I sat down on the bench when it suddenly hit me: I had reached my destination.

         I was at the park where we always used to go.  I heard the trees blowing and saw leaves falling.  I smelt the fresh flowers the community had just finished planting that morning.  When-ever I had a problem, she told me to go here, and if I didn’t come home in time for dinner, she knew where I’d be.  It’s where I spoke with God and got a tan and relaxed after a hard day at school.  Then they told me it was over.  They were lying, they had no idea what they were saying.  I knew her better than they ever would.  And so I ran and here I was, at the park, alone, waiting for my mother to return.

         Deep down, I knew they were right.  She wasn’t coming back and just because I wanted her to stay didn’t mean she would.  I took a deep breath.  The air was cool compared to mine.  That run was quite a workout, not something I was prepared for in this summer heat after two months of summer vacation.

         I put my head in my hands and began to cry, “Mama, why did you have to go?  Please come back, please come back,” I sobbed.  I started crying harder and harder with every second that ticked away into oblivion.  I distinctly remembered chanting, “Please come back, please come back.”

         “But I didn’t go anywhere, darling.”

         I looked up and couldn’t believe my eyes.  I thought I was dreaming.  I rubbed my eyes and blinked a few times but never did she leave my sight.  All she did was smile that familiar smile at me the whole entire time.

         “Mama?”

         “I told you I would never leave you.  How could you honestly think something as awful as that?”

         “They said-”

         “-Those doctors, I always said they were a bunch of lying phonies.  I’m here now, aren’t I?” she said with a sing song voice that made all of my worries disappear.

         I hopped off of the bench and ran over.  I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her real tight.  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to let her go.

         “I missed you so much.”

         “I was always here though, even when I wasn't there with you.”

         “That doesn’t make any sense,” I told her, still holding her close.

         She walked me over to the bench and we sat down.  I leaned my head on her shoulder and she put her arm around me.

         “Now you listen to me,” she began with an assertive yet sensitive tone, “no matter what anyone tells you, I’ll be there with you no matter what.  I will never leave you and one day, we’ll be reunited.”

         “Does that mean you’re going to go again?” I asked, tears once again forming in my eyes.

         “Not yet, dear, it’s not time yet.  Close your eyes and get some rest, okay?  You must be exhausted.”

         “Will you be here when I wake up?”

         “Not in person, no, but in your heart,” she placed her hand upon my chest, “you’ll always have me.”

         Slowly my eyes began to droop due to exhaustion.  I barely remembered what happened after, but when I woke up, everything was perfectly clear.

         My mother’s spirit would never leave me.