Apr 2013
She was a whirlwind.
A beautiful flurry of kindness and compassion and sympathy stitched on the wings of an angel never meant to touch the ground.
She was a woman whose outstretched hand reached out and touched the lives of many like droplets of paint on a white canvas.
She inspired, recreated.
She molded her children to become what she was - maybe to become what she always wanted to be.
But she was everything. She was the best she could be.
But the best was not enough to protect her from falling onto that hospital bed. The best doctors. The best nurses. The best medicine.
The best was not enough to heal her pain.
The morphine which ran deep through her rich veins and engulfed her was not enough to cure her from the ****** aching in her.
The oh, shuddering throbbing that raked and wracked her body. The throbbing that shook the empire inside her, knocking down the little soldiers in which supported her and made her who she was.
And all this. This hurricane unfolded, as the children she made stood by and could only watch in anguish.
In regret, her son slams his fist against the grainy counter, tears like floods erupting as if a dam had been broken inside him.
"I'm losing her!"
He screams and shouts, throat raw with emotion.
As her daughter can all but stare, a string seconds away from snapping and back lashing like a flashback of her mother playing in her head, slapping her in the face back into reality.
Because just a month ago, in the sweltering heat of June of 2011, her son had graduated high school. He did his best.
And her daughter graduated middle school. She did her best.
Their mother was proud, clapping loud and clear through the faces of those in the crowd who did not matter to her children.
But the best did not save their mother.
No text book or diploma or certificate from the children or degrees or credentials from the doctors could cure her.
The woman laying in the practically snow white hospital sheets with the eerie beep beep beeping of the only lifeline she had was not saved.
By the best doctors, the best nurses, the best medicine.
Not even the kids she considered the best things in her life could do much, either.
However,
She was my mother.
She was the best.
A beautiful flurry of kindness and compassion and sympathy stitched on the wings of an angel never meant to touch the ground.
She was a woman whose outstretched hand reached out and touched the lives of many like droplets of paint on a white canvas.
She inspired, recreated.
She molded her children to become what she was - maybe to become what she always wanted to be.
But she was everything. She was the best she could be.
But the best was not enough to protect her from falling onto that hospital bed. The best doctors. The best nurses. The best medicine.
The best was not enough to heal her pain.
The morphine which ran deep through her rich veins and engulfed her was not enough to cure her from the ****** aching in her.
The oh, shuddering throbbing that raked and wracked her body. The throbbing that shook the empire inside her, knocking down the little soldiers in which supported her and made her who she was.
And all this. This hurricane unfolded, as the children she made stood by and could only watch in anguish.
In regret, her son slams his fist against the grainy counter, tears like floods erupting as if a dam had been broken inside him.
"I'm losing her!"
He screams and shouts, throat raw with emotion.
As her daughter can all but stare, a string seconds away from snapping and back lashing like a flashback of her mother playing in her head, slapping her in the face back into reality.
Because just a month ago, in the sweltering heat of June of 2011, her son had graduated high school. He did his best.
And her daughter graduated middle school. She did her best.
Their mother was proud, clapping loud and clear through the faces of those in the crowd who did not matter to her children.
But the best did not save their mother.
No text book or diploma or certificate from the children or degrees or credentials from the doctors could cure her.
The woman laying in the practically snow white hospital sheets with the eerie beep beep beeping of the only lifeline she had was not saved.
By the best doctors, the best nurses, the best medicine.
Not even the kids she considered the best things in her life could do much, either.
However,
She was my mother.
She was the best.
Just something a bit personal. I wanted to try my hand at something like this, haha.
