A Nightmare Before Christmas
Eric and Isaiah rested their heads on my shoulders and I embraced them as we watched the life slip right out of their mother's body. Teressa held everyone to offer comfort, but there was none. With comfort came hope, and we had already decided that there was no hope left. I was soaked from their tears and mine and I realized that,
Even amid dozens of people surrounding them with their love
These boys will still feel lonely.
Even after eating meal after meal
They would still be empty.
And even after facing the world with smiles day after day,
They will cry like children when alone.
I can feel their questions.
Where is she?
Why did she go there?
Why cant I go to her now?
These questions swim in my own brain like sharks waiting to attack.
They feed on our emotions
The grow in the open wounds on her body.
I do not cry out to 'God' like they do.
He cannot soothe us.
I do not ask him questions.
He cannot answer them.
I cannot cry on his 'broad' shoulder.
He cannot take our worries away.
And I do not sing him praises because
These boys will still be alone.
I glanced around the room. I didn't want this to be my last memory of her. Sisters who hadn't talked to her in years. A daughter whop dips off with some random boy and later, displays an almost-convincing act of hysterics. The other wishing the death was quicker. I knew, from my quiet observations, that the two people she held dearest were these two little boys. So small and so lost. I held them tighter and hid behind Pierre, clutching his jacket. Still, there was no warmth. How could there be?
All we could do was listen to the slowing beeps of her lifeline die out. She is no longer in agony. Instead, she left all her pain behind.
My heart cries out for them...
