It is coming onto winter now, and this is when they begin to die. One by one the systems begin to fail, the lungs, the heart, the bowels. Something fails. Something that has gone on as long as it could, as long as anyone could expect, longer by far than in prairie times.
I don't know why I think prairie time was that long ago. I'm sure there are still prairies. And prairie time could be a time zone for all I know.
Anyway, we lost one on Saturday morning. Melba came and went without a peep. She carried a babydoll for comfort. What I will always remember about Melva is that her son loved her. He would come and talk to her, and he swore he understood her. She laughed once while we werer playing kazoos, and it was music to all of us. Unlike some who thrash and fight, and for whom death is hard hard work, Melba floated away quickly and quietly, deservedly peaceful.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
that's a lovely piece, thanks for it.
Post a Comment