That’s
enough. That’s enough time for me to find her. To let my eyes brush over every
other person waiting by the conveyor belts, desperation washing over their
faces with each passing minute. I find her by the benches, but she isn’t sat in
the one empty spot. Her hands are clasped around her book but it isn’t open,
she isn’t reading. She is waiting. Her cheeks are rosier than they ever had
been and her lips seem lonely. My sprint turns into a wander as I embrace her,
resting my nose in her hair. It still smelt like apples.
***
That’s
enough. That’s enough time for her final words. “Just keep working hard, okay?
That’s what will get you places. Make me proud.” That’s enough time for the
heart monitor to find one low drone and hum it through for the rest of the
night. The machines start to beep and red lights flash, slicing across my face,
slicing through my heart. The tears don’t come, not yet. Her pale, wrinkled
body drowns in the white sheets. They ask me to stand up while they pull the
bed away. I can’t stand up. I can’t move. I can’t leave her; I can’t let the
strongest woman I ever knew see me as weak. I can’t walk away from my
grandmother.
***
That’s
enough. That’s enough time for me to fall in love. I hold him in my arms and I
understand that, for the first time, our family will feel whole again. His
mouth stays open and his wails echo around the room but the tears never come. He
isn’t crying because he’s hungry, or because he needs to be in his new mother’s
arms, he’s screaming out to the world, “I’m here”, he’s making himself known,
he’s begun the incredible journey of his life and he’s building it up any way
he can. And I stroke his forehead, not telling him to be quiet, because I want
my brother to know that I will be there – with him. Whenever he needs me.
No comments:
Post a Comment