Waiting

Thoughts from a seventeen-year-old in a time of loss.

I sit next to the window in the warm sunlight, staring down at my hands nervously. There are tiny beads of sweat between the ridges of my fingerprints. It’s a nervousness that sparkles in the sunlight. Every bead of sweat beaming in the light like grains of sand on a shore. I am anxious. I don’t know what I should think or say or do. At this moment I am lost completely. I think about the past few days and replay in my head the incident that has just made us all so nervous.

The look on her face, the fear in her eyes. Sitting up in the bed trying to catch a breath but not knowing how. We all thought she was about to go, we knew it was going to happen. Then she went limp. She wasn’t breathing. Her jaw was set and her eyes were fixed in an unfocused, blank stare. We all thought she was gone. We thought that at that moment, ninety-one years of life had ended just like that. But then she moved slightly. The breath was building up again in her lungs. She went back to the same slow breathing, with that deep rattle that she had had for days. I suppose it wasn’t her time just yet.

Months ago we weren’t sure how much longer she could last, but she has. For the past few days, one of us has sat with her morning and night, just in case. She should have someone with her when she goes. Just to comfort her if nothing else.

People are calling. We are calling people. Other than the phone calls about her current status, it is quiet here. There’s Christmas music in the background. Death has not yet come but It is hanging around the hallways of the house and It greets you as you walk in the door. You can feel the quiet nervousness.

Until now I've never had to deal with anything like this. I’ve never seen someone die and I don’t especially want to. I have a strange feeling about all of this. I don’t know what it is, it’s something I’ve never felt before. Although it makes me sad, I’m not truly depressed. It’s an indescribable feeling. Someone will ask how I’m doing and how I’m handling all this, but there are no words for what I’m feeling. I’m aware of all the emotions in this house. So I stay quiet. I stay quiet even though this house is screaming with quiet emotions. An endless deafening noise that no one can hear.

I look out the window again. It’s a beautiful day despite the freeze that winter has brought. I listen to people in the bedroom talk to her and about her. Will it happen today? Tomorrow? On Christmas Eve or Christmas? I think the waiting is the hardest part. The idea that she could go at any minute, or that she will hang on for a few more days. Having no idea when she will leave us. Just waiting. Yes, I think that is the hardest part.

The anxiety of the wait.