~ envelopes ~ Her corduroy skin seemed to fold with rhythm, it - TopicsExpress



          

~ envelopes ~ Her corduroy skin seemed to fold with rhythm, it was speckled and thin like the pages of an ancient book; and with a subtle smile she spoke volumes between each tired breath. Her eyelids were resting half open, as she sunk deeper into the mattress, comfortable. Outside the door, the bustling sounds of the hospital echoed through the hall, reminding me of the indoor pool she would take me to when I was younger. A machine, resembling a robot from an old sci-fi film, sang the sound of her heartbeat, steady but struggling. I could feel her letting go. In the silent moments I saw rainbows in the shadows that hid from the fluorescent lights, and even though she never opened her mouth, she spoke to me. ‘I love you too, Grandma.’ I said ever softly, but I knew she heard me, because her lips turned up just enough to say so. My hand, resting on top of hers, clasped slightly tighter; and it was as though our bodies were hugging. I kissed her forehead and then stood, smiling to her once more before floating out the door and down the hall. Slinking between the lobbies commotion, I followed a family out the hospital entrance as a young boy held the door open, trapped in insecure politeness. I nodded to acknowledge him, his smile confessing a certain sadness. Delicate navy and crimson shadows rested between glowing clouds, crowding the tranquil grey sky on this windless fall morning. A flock of crows, waiting in the trees, greeted me with a pleasant caw; I nodded my appreciation as I glided over the rust orange leaves that lay at my feet, a saturated waiting line to decompose. Disrobed, the trees bare skeletons were exposed, riddled with a few final leaves, desperately clinging on to life. My grandmother was not one of those leaves, still clinging to a branch; she did not want the pills, did not want to draw it out. She would pass into death with grace. As I took the final strides through the park like entrance of the hospital, a single leaf, deep red with burnt purple edges, let go of her branch and danced downward. With the elegance of an ice skater, the leaf floated softly, finally resting on the ground among her family. With this, I knew my grandmother had passed. I felt her essence dissolve from the vessel of her body, permeating the sea of energy between us, and instantly her warmth enveloped me like an envelope of love. And then I knew; she was in the ground beneath me, inside my heart and in the clouds above.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Jun 2013 01:35:25 +0000

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