Last Words

Last Words

A Story by Allison

A little story about the bonding of a daughter with her mother, who is experiencing her last moments.


   Looking down at my mother, I began to notice how unsightly she really looked, Her hair in a tangled mess of a pony tail, nails unclipped and uncared for. Her skin had a yellowish tint to it, a side effect of one of the many liquids that was being injected into her wrist and forced to run the track of her bloodstream. She had bags under her eyes, accompanied by smeared several day old make up.

   Everything seemed to unreal for the past few days. I never thought I'd be feeling these emotions for my mother, my cancer plagued mother. Part of me was forcing self pity on myself, no matter how much I tried to relieve myself of it. It made me feel incredibly guilty, feeling sorry for myself and about everything I should've done different, and not keeping my thoughts and prayers on my mother, wishing her the peaceful death she always wished for, in contrast to a choking painful one.

   My mother and I had what you would call a rocky relationship. We fought more than often than not, somtimes over the stupidest things. Memories of all the 'shut-ups' and spiteful 'I hate yous' had a death grip on my mind. Those fights were always awful, and at times we would stop talking, for even weeks at a time. There were always little ghosts of thoughts in the back of my head that knew it didn't have to be this way, but I persisted to ignore those thoughts.

   Now, those thoughts intruded my mind everytime I'd sit down and wonder why I had been so...ignorant, why I had caused my mother so much unwanted pain.

   "I know I have been a horrible daughter, I know I had been a bad influence on everyone else," I whispered aloud, knowing in some way, that my mother could hear me. "And now the guilt is weighing down on my shoulders. I couldn't be any more sorry at this point in time, when you're slipping right out of my grip. I apologize for never really taking the opportunity to build a true relationship with you. I apologize for the way I acted towards you, and for my selfish ways. But most importantly, I apologize for never letting you know that I always loved you. You are my mother, my priceless beacon that stands taller than the rest, and I love you more than anyone or anything in the world. I owe you everything, but I can now give you nothing but my heart, soul, and spirit."

   Bending down to kiss her, I noticed her look seemed to morph. In fact, the whole room seemed to change as well. No, her physical being and the white walls of the hospital room hadn't changed, but she seemed to look more calm and serene and less exhausted than ever, and the atmosphere of the room felt a lot less heavy, the sadness seeming to leave only a faint trace of having been here. A tear slid down my cheek, sparking the room with a warm feeling. Somewhere in me, I knew that my mother had heard all of that, and had gratefully accepted her daughters love.

   Smiling, I ran my fingers through her thining hair, pulling several strands out with them. I looked at them as a piece of her, something I should cherish most brilliantly. They began to slide off my fingers, but I pulled a grip around them, making sure to never let it loosen. My mother would soon be new, born again into her soul, where she would continue living someplace else. I knew I would never lose her.

   "Death takes bodies, not relationships," I muttered. I knew that was true, I felt it. My heart swelled, and a waterfall of tears came splashing out of my eyes. Tears of grief and loss? No. My mother may be dying, but I knew she loved me, and that was all that really mattered to me. I cleared my throat, took in a shakey breath, and said with pride in my voice, "Now, maybe we can start over?"

   I grabbed her hand gently and leaned in closer. My eyes seemed to deieve me, as a gentle smile looked to form across her pale face, and for an instant I thought I heard the smallest moan of agreement that escaped her slightly parted lips.

   But maybe I was just hearing things.

© 2012 Allison

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I'm guessing that this is a true story because the words ring true. If so, you are fortunate to have had the chance to smooth things over a bit before the end. I didn't have that chance, I'm very sad to say. This is all so very sensitive and heartfelt, and you're quite brave for telling it.

Posted 8 Years Ago

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Added on April 1, 2010
Last Updated on September 22, 2012
Tags: Sad, Mother, Daughter, Dying, Happy, Good




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