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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1108296-Saying-Goodbye
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by Chris Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Death · #1108296
A young boy and his dad deal with the death of a loved one.
Saying Goodbye

         The little boy held tight to his mother’s hand. She took deep breaths now and her eyes slowly began to fall closed. The boy felt a tear dripping from his eyes and he sniffled. He would stay strong. His mother turned her head, letting it fall against the pillow heavily. She smiled and tears cascaded from her closing eyes, down her cheeks and onto the pillow. A quivering smile crawled across the boys face as salty tears dripped into his mouth.

          “I love you, sweetie,” his mother managed to choke out.

          “Mommy…”the boy’s voice trailed off.

          “I’m sorry, I… have to… go.” Her voice was a faint whisper now and her eyes were shut. Her chest rose as she took one final, deep breath. Finally the heart monitor flat-lined, and a soft monotonous beep filled the room as the boy lay his sobbing head down on his mother’s unmoving chest; his hand still tightly clinched in hers. He never wanted the warmth to leave their embrace, nor the life to leave her body.


         But it did. After only a few minutes the boy’s sobbing turned into loud crying as his mother’s hands turned cold, and the only heat in their embrace radiated from his shivering body. Soon, the boy’s father rose from a chair across the room. He strode across the plain tile floor and leaned down towards his wife. He kissed her gently on the forehead and whispered something in her ear. The boy wasn’t listening. He didn’t care about anything but his mother, and she was gone. She was cold.

         Soon enough, doctors filled the room and spoke with the boy’s father. The boy listened attentively, but could not understand the men. They spoke too fast and used big words that the boy didn’t understand. He walked slowly out of the room. The boy sat down patiently in a chair placed next to the wall of the waiting room. After 5 minutes, which seemed like an eternity to the boy, his father left the room, followed closely by the doctors. The father sat down next to the boy as the last few dying rays of sunlight filled the hallway. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees.

          “She wouldn’t want us sitting here all sad, and you know that Jake,” the father said.

          “I…know. I’m not…sad,” the boy choked out between coughs and tears.

          “Let’s just go somewhere, get out of this dreary building,” suggested the father.

         Jake and his dad stood and began to walk toward the elevator at the end of the hall. They waited as the elevator rattled up seven floors and slowly binged as its doors opened. Every noise, the binging, clacking, pulling, popping; everything hurt Jake’s ears. He wanted silence, he wanted to her his mother's heart beating, feel her breath against his face, her hand in his. As the elevator doors closed Jake could see his mother being rolled out from her hospital room, lifeless on her bed. He closed his eyes and grimaced.

         After nearly an hour of aimless wandering through downtown, the father and son arrived at an empty park. Jake ran towards a bench and went to sit down on it. His father followed.

          “David, do you think Mommy can still see us?” Jake asked.

         The father paused just before sitting down.

          “Why did you call me David?” the father asked.

          “Because that’s what Mommy called you.”

          “Well, Son, if you mean can Mommy still use her eyes, watch you run around, laugh and play; if you mean, can she see us sitting here right now…” David paused. “Then, no I don’t think she can.”

          “But can she really see us?” the boy pleaded.

          “Jake, your mother is gone. She’s dead now. She can’t hear you laughing. She can’t see you sitting here; can't smell the grass or feel the rain fall; she can't taste or think or cry. Her body just doesn’t work anymore.”

         David sat pensively, wondering how long he could comfort his son with such soothing answers, wondering how long he could hold his chin high and act strong. Jake squinted as the sun fell very low on the horizon. He thought.

          “David, do you think Mommy can see the sunset?”

         David stared pensively towards the horizon. A wry smile crept across his face.

          “Yes, Jake. I’m sure she can. Even heaven can’t hide from something as beautiful as that sunset.”

         Almost an hour passed and neither David nor Jake spoke another word. They both sat, letting the darkness envelop them. David began to weep; he wept for his wife whom he loved and for his son who still couldn’t understand.

          “Should we be going home, David?” Jake asked, his voice still shaky.

          “Do you want to?” his father asked.
          “No…”

          “Why did Mommy have to go away anyway, David?”

         David sighed. Life’s questions were unanswerable, and yet this eight year old seemed to have such a concrete and simple view of everything. David tried to formulate an answer.

          “Because in life, Jake, bad things can happen. Your mommy didn’t want to leave, and obviously we didn’t want her to leave either. But that wasn’t what He wanted. You know?” David pointed to the starry sky above. Jake nodded and David continued.

          “You see, life isn’t something we deserve. It’s something we are given. You’ll learn this too, Jake, and I’m sorry you had to go through all of this at such a young age. But life’s not about saying something, it’s not about doing something; it’s not even about being something. It’s all about living; day by day, hour by hour, breath by breath. We don’t know when we’ll have to go. And that’s why it’s best we say, ‘Mommy, I love you’ and begin to move on. She was a beautiful person, and some of that beauty will live on in us. But let’s not cover it up with all these tears.”

         In the moonlight David could see a smile creep across his son’s face. He leaned forward and kissed his son on the forehead.

          “Daaaad,” Jake whined.

          “Oh it’s ‘dad’ again now,” David said with a smirk.

          “Just don’t kiss me. Please,” Jake said.

          “Oh, all right”

         The moonlight fell upon them, father and son, as they embraced.

         “Goodbye, Mommy,” said Jake as he felt the warmth of his father’s body fill him and give him hope.
© Copyright 2006 Chris (cwarrenc at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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