A Moment of Grace
by Shadesofpeace
It's said only the good die young. No one expected her to die. Grace was too much of a hard **** to let something like an illness taker her down. She'd beaten the odds, rising above poverty, getting her education late in the game of life after raising ten children single-handedly. No, no one expected her to die, especially me. It was such a beautiful day. It was warm and the sun was shining brightly. It was such a beautiful day. Too beautiful to be attending a funeral, but there I was fighting back tears, wondering how I was going to make peace with a woman who was now only with me in Spirit. I remember our last day together. I could feel the covers being pulled off of me by the hands of dawn. I wasn't ready for that. It meant getting up and starting the process and I wasn't ready for that either. Pulling the covers tighter, I held on for dear sleep, but my efforts were in vain. At the ending scream of four alarm clocks, I kicked the covers off completely, much to my chagrin. It was time. I could hear the faint snores coming from the living room, and as I approached, those snores got louder. And louder. And louder, until the drone of the snores resembled an angry debate between a man and his wife; in with the nag, out with the retort. It was all I could do not to giggle, but the urge disappeared when I peeked into the room. There was my mother. My mother, figure illuminated by the subtle glow of the television she's fallen asleep in front of. My mother, sitting in the only soft armchair in the house that could support her 675 pound frame, and even that was with some effort. The arms splayed in exhaustion, as if to say, PLEASE! Wake her already! Lighten my load! My mother, naked from the waist up, barely covered by her favorite blue blanket. I suppose she tried to undress herself, for a change, for her nightly sponge bath, and tired herself out doing so. My mother, unaware that anyone else existed, lost in the comforts of her dreams. Battling with her conversational snores is an early morning repeat of Bob Barker telling Mary Lou from Lynch, Kentucky to come on down, the price was right. It's now or never. Don't want to be late. Time to wake her up. It's time to start the process.
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