Writing 101: character building exercise
If you saw her slight frame laying in the hospital bed, you’d think that she was the walking dead, all skin and bones and muscles wasting away. She was a fighter, it showed in the deep lines etched in her face that she had lived her life fighting. Raising three children alone, never complaining about the unfairness of life. Even after her ex-husband came back into their children’s lives. Begging money and demanding favors that he had no right to demand, even then she fought. Always protecting the ones who meant the most to her. After being diagnosed six years ago, this was her third relapse of cancer and we all knew this would be her last. She was tired, her body slumped and weak and exhausted from being so strong for everyone. She had lost her vanity, no longer covering up the thin sparse hair she had left. Some would say that she was too young, after all she was only fifty years old, but she looked and felt a lot older.
It was time to go, to rest. Her children weren’t ready to let her, they were willing to blame us, her caretakers for every and anything to get away from the fact that she was dying. But what they failed to understand, we loved her too. We would miss her also, for her sass, and sense of humor. We would mourn her, and cry just like they would.
We would grieve, just like they would.
“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched – they must be felt with the heart. ”