The Shadow of death

"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, the sheapard is always by my side, a lovely scripture isn't it?"

This priest is boring. His tone is nasally and congested as if he might sneeze at any moment and ruin the whole sermon. Lord forgive me, I didn't mean that. I'd like to be in heaven within the next 60 minutes, don't hold that against me. Secretly, I wished that he would sneeze and interrupt himself so that I could be alone for the first time in 2 years since being diagnosed with acute lymphonic lukemia. But no, he dragged on about living and dying and Mama squeezed my hand so tight I thought she'd take it clean off my wrist. I didn't mind though, I'd be leaving her with Daddy in just a short while. They'd have to get along without me and get along together. They'd have to love each other like peanut butter and jelly even without a cold glass of milk. I wondered if they would have another kid. A daughter, like me, with pretty blonde hair my grandmohter loved to rake her wrinkly fingers through as I sat on the corner of her lap when I wasn't feeling well enough to stand beside her. I've only got an hour left. Or that's what Doctor Williams said.

"So soon?"

Mama's voice sounded tiny and pinched in comparison to her round, busty frame.

"There's nothing more we can do, Mrs. Patterson."

"Just an hour?"

"If I were God, I'd give her more."

He replied in a soft tone as sweet and delicate as can be, searching every inch of Mama's face as if invoking his sympathy into her smooth pale skin.

"I thought this was the best hospital in the country! You're all just a bunch of med-school degree-waving buzzards!""

Mama snapped, but the bitter-hurt was her showing in her violet blue eyes as Doctor Williams placed his cleam-smelling hands on either side of her arms and led her out of his office, whispering that he was sorry. When she slipped back into my room her tears were big and floppy, balancing on the ends of her long eyelashes. She was a beautiful woman I realized when looking a her full heart-shaped face. My mama had the same long blonde hair sometimes worn up in style with a hair tie, or a barette clip. Her clothes were always pressed, she smelled like the wind through a tree and the cinnamon in an apple pie. My heart ached as I would never smell it again. I'd never be able to feel her crushing hugs, or sit with Daddy while he read the newspaper comics to me and sipped black coffee he knew he didn't like the taste of.

"Did you eat?"

Mama asked, forcing a smile and pressing peppermints into the palm of my hand to help with the nausea of throwing up. After Mama told me I had only an hour left to live, she and Daddy went out into the hall to "Discuss" their next moves but I knew they were hiding from me. While I watched the rain drip down the side of my foggy window, I could hear them crying out in the hall together. They'd been trying so desperately to be strong for me, but they didn't have to be. I imagined death like I imagined a very long nap. Falling asleep forever like Rip Van Winkle. Even now, thinking of it I was tired. Exhuasted, but happy. Mama and daddy would be okay my soul whispered faintly, they have each other.

"You doing alright, honey?"

I heard Mama's voice and nodded my head. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall not be afraid is how the scripture really went.