Thursday, October 15, 2009

October 16, 1996...

it is dark. only a greenish, machine glow penetrates the darkness of a breaking heart. she doesn't even know what time it really is. she doesn't care. it's a sickening teacup ride. spinning the wheel in the center of her brain that makes time go faster  means that the pit in her stomach grows larger. nausea hits as the inevitable draws near. nearer.

quietly a body moves in the room. not the body she wants to move. a nurse notes vitals, not nearly vital for life. the pen scratches down the information. she hates ballpoints from then on. their sound evokes grief.

next to her is the love of her life. helpless as she to stop the inevitable. tears are not enough. they never were. even that sign of life has ceased. helplessness magnified will crash onto itself. the teacup spins again.

a door cracks open flooding light where it is not welcome. if the darkness is going to swallow her whole, then let it do its work. get out! whispers fade. footsteps fade. time fades. everything dies.

except the grief inside that gains a life of its own, parasitically draining all that is meant to live. sorrow roars within her ears. can you really hear the sound a heart makes when it shatters? the glowing beeps yes. but slowly, teasing out the answer. having the last word. turn them off! she can't stand the beeps. ballpoints and beeps, new archenemies to life.

small hand within hers. fingers deathly blue, but here the darkness is a friend, hiding truth. the pulse within her thumb seeks its mate, intertwined, but no answer responds. months to come of phantom pain, nerves remembering pressure of small fingers, seeking and finding no flesh.

one last breath followed by two, waiting for one more. that never comes. tears without wet flow. how is that? darkness has its sounds. grief has its consummation. life without life begins.


  1. Oh, Elle. I sit silent beside you.

  2. All I can say is that I read this and am moved by your grief.

  3. A grief that only the thought of Heaven can comfort.

    With my love,

  4. Is it callous to say that was so beautifully expressed? I am so grateful for your unwavering faith in the God of all comfort who alone can grant peace and strength in the midst of unspeakable grief.

  5. I saw this, but it took me a few days to get get up the steel in my self to read it. It waxes poetic unless you've sat in the room, watched that green glow, felt the icy tendrils of fear grasp your heart.

    The steel I brought with me to read this one couldn't hold back the tears.

    Love you!