Only the steady thump-thump of the hissing machine, valves pressing and depressing against your will, remind me you are here. Like you, I dress in white; like you, many patients call me angel and I guess I am, administering to their wounds and sighs and bedpans and now, ministering to you, embellishing the chart with your vitals, watching you waste to a shrunken, wheezing vessel. The clacking ventilator reminds me of the ice cubes rattling in your highball the nights I nagged you to stop, your hands jittering between the glass and the cigarette, but your yellowed fingers stabbed and twisted the butt into ashes, proving you did not love me. You moan and turn your withered face to the weak gasp of winter sun bullying its way through the window. It's only a matter of time, I rationalize, and fiddle with the tubing, adjusting the flow. The morphine races down the catheter to your wrist and I wonder: Mama, did I love you enough?
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Because bookends come in pairs -- http://www.fictionaut.com/stories/linda-simoni-wastila/bookends-of-a-life-i
Originally published in 6S: Volume II, 2009
This hits hard; this hits home. So good, so real.
Amazing range of life in so few words.
Very nice. I like this better than part 1.
Michelle, Walter, Matt -- thanks for your kind words.
Michelle, me too. Peace...
The compressed form of the piece gives the language power. The sense imagery is very present, creating a reality: "The clacking ventilator reminds me of the ice cubes rattling in your highball the nights I nagged you to stop, your hands jittering between the glass and the cigarette, but your yellowed fingers stabbed and twisted the butt into ashes, proving you did not love me."
Good work, Linda.
Powerful. The sewing together of the hospital, the sounds of the machines and what they remind her of. I read this first, and was surprised it wasn't about her lover or husband, but about her mother. Then went and read part I. And it made great sense. Really nice work.
Nice, Linda. A powerful piece with an excellent rhythm to it.
Sam nailed it spot on with his comments. Brilliantly written his comments and your piece :-)
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"...proving you did not love me."--Left me breathless for a moment.
This just leaves me speechless.
Damn. I got chills. It's perfect--so concrete.
Awesome. "proving you did not love me" is one of those bits that illustrates that everything we do affects others, whether in factual truth, or in emotional truth.
This is very sad. But a very good sad.