MOTHER LOVE

I sit beside your bed and hold your hand. I barely notice my surroundings or that the chair is hard. Everything is quiet - too quiet. I want to make a lot of noise like I did when I was a kid and feeling scared, anything to cover up this quiet. You hardly make a sound as you lay there.

The mound beneath the white sheet which is you, barely moves and I find myself checking to see if your chest is rising and whether you are still breathing. Our positions have reversed now. I find myself acting like the mother, offering comfort and trying to soothe the pain away with a kiss and murmured words of love.

Although I am not sure if you can still hear, I carry on this stupid one - sided conversation. I tell you all the day's news and talk to you about totally unimportant things that have happened. I seem to need to hear the sound of my own voice, perhaps to reassure myself that things are normal.

There is a message screaming at me inside my head that things will never be normal again. My mother is dying and life can never be the same again. I know I am being selfish. I want you to go on living, to go on being my Mother, my rock, the only person who ever really knew me. It is selfish because I know you are sick and your old body has just become too much trouble to drag around any longer. I know it is time to let you go but I just don't know how to do that yet because I still need you. I refuse an offered cup of tea. It seems wrong to drink and eat normally when you can't join in. You always loved your cup of tea. Years ago I remember you reading the tea leaves and telling me about all the wonderful things I would do and see as I grew older. You must have had "The Gift" because so much came true. I did do some wonderful things. I visited other countries and soaked up other cultures and filled my head with enough memories to last me until I am your age. I have been very unlucky in love but that was because I didn't listen to you when you told me in your quiet voice that I was making a mistake.

Why don't we listen to our parents? Your advice was spot on. I could have avoided years of unhappiness if I had just listened. Why do we think that parents know nothing and feel even less? In reality, you have probably soaked up more memories and stored more wise thoughts in your 80 odd years than I ever will. I never lived through the fear and pain of war. I wasn't forced to say goodbye to the man I loved, never knowing whether he would return damaged, or if indeed he ever would return. You have seen technology blossom and travel broaden. Horizons have moved during your lifetime. Now here we are in the 21st century with all the medical knowledge that you have seen develop and yet you will die.

Nothing I can do or say will stop the inevitable. While my head has been thinking these thoughts, my heart has been showering you with love. I am mentally helping you along the bright corridor to your final destiny. It will be pain free I know and not lonely. No never lonely because gone before you, waits your love and the rest of your family. I could almost envy you this last journey because of the joy you will find at the end of it. The sheet no longer rises even gently now. I feel the need to open the window and let your spirit fly high and free Now you are gone, I can feel peace too. I kiss your beloved face and it is over.