23:30 May 31 2025
Times Read: 69
She shut the office door, stepping up to the window, the scent in the air unmistakable of an old medical office. She is handed a clipboard, forms to fill out as it was her first time here. She turned, looking for an empty seat among the few hard plastic chairs.
She sat next to an older woman, her short hair with more pepper than salt in color. She was on the plus size, so it was a tight fit, but isn’t that the way of many of these offices, all across the world? The hard uncomfortable chairs, the rack of old magazines years old that only get thrown out once in a blue moon. The generic artwork on the wall that is to show you the ideal outside landscape, the dusty fake tree sitting beside. All under the fluorescent lights.
She smiled, starting on the form as the door to the inner office opens. A young woman of comes out, sadness stamped on her face. She wipes at her eyes with the tissue crumbled in her hand, as she walks to the door, leaving.
“That is a sad one.” the woman beside her tells her. She glances toward the lady to see her still watching the door. “She knew there was evil in the world. She wasn’t sheltered in life, but at 27 years old, she was touched by true evil. Her 68 year old aunt was killed in her home. Stomped to death by two men in her kitchen.” The woman shook her head, a tusking sound given. “That will change her view on life for the rest of her life. And she is felling the first stirring of rage, unlike anything she ever felt before. And her ability to trust stranger is forever gone. And the time it took to find the killer, the unknown. Was it family? Someone she knew. Then the trail itself. 43 years later- still sitting on death row.”
She felt sad for the young lady and glanced around the room, seeing several more ladies. Her eyes spot on another lady. “Oh- that one. Her mother’s health was starting to fail. So when she got the call, she expected it to be her mother. But no- Suprise! It was her father. And as she was a Daddy’s girl- well... that took years to get a handle on. On top of her father, he was her business partner. Everything changed after his sudden death. Her whole world changed at 42 years old.”
The woman eyes cast to another woman, and she glanced over to see a slightly older woman. “Her mother died after a three year battle with dementia. And many other health issues. Three years of being bed bound, having to depend on them to feed, wash, care for. All the while her job, income was shrinking. But she held on to what joy she could find. I think she is 49 years old. Poor thing was sitting bedside when she passed as the rest of the family slept, having been called to come. She voiced her desire to wait, to let the sun come up, question if their mother would really wish to live like this. She died a few hours later, never saying a word. Just stop breathing.”
The woman lifted her hand, a subtle gesture to draw her eyes to another woman. “That one took care of her sister. Same as the mother, bed bound for the most part. Cleaning, cooking. All the while taking care of more family members. She looks older then 57, yes? This one was hard- it happens during the lock down. Covid. And her sister begs to not go to the hospital. Her sister was over 125 miles away when they called in the middle of the night. Left to make the decision if they wanted to keep bringing her sister back to life, or let her go. She had more than half her stomach cut away due to infection. The other sister couldn’t make the decision, so it was left on her.”
She felt the woman looked older then 57, but then... what a terrible decision. “Then when she made the decision, she couldn’t even say good bye. Not even on the phone. To this day I think she questioned that decision. The ‘what if’s’ would have to awful” She looked at the woman as she lifted her head... and then glanced at the woman who had been talking to her. “Wait.. That is you.” The woman nodded yes. “It is. All of these women are me. I have lived thru all the deaths. From the murder, the taken of life. To the sudden shocking death. To the long-term illness, and its form of torture that it brings to the family. The frighten of the virus, prolonging to getting help that leads to a battle, of ups and downs, and knowing she was alone most of that time. To agreeing to let her die as you sit on your bedside, alone. To the look in your sisters' eyes as you tell her she will always be on a machine. To her nodding when asked if she wanted to die, to move on. With no one in the room to lean on.”
She set aside the paperwork and addressed the woman. "How can a person manage so much loss and pain?" The woman, smiling, reflected on significant moments in her life that impacted her deeply. These included the deaths of family members like grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. Her memories focused not just on the events themselves but also on her involvement in them—her reactions, feelings, and decisions that contributed to those outcomes. To the deaths.
“You handle it because you live. If you live, then you face death.” She stands, and the other woman vanish as she turns to look down at the woman. “And you take it day by day.” and the woman vanished. She sits, and realizes all the hurt, pain, doubt, and guilt she feels on each of the deaths of her family will never go away. But she did her best to see they did not suffer. That is all anyone can ask of her. And she will face her own death when it is time, hoping the same is given to her.
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