Scenery

From the comfort of my bed I look through the small window and the leaves are beginning to bud. My children race each other, occasionally tagging or tackling. Five boys can be a lot to handle. Later in the day, the sun begins to set and I enjoy the vibrant colors, wishing I could go outside and feel the breeze. Tomorrow, I will drive to the beach with the kids, for a relaxing day in the surf. As I continue to muse, I am annoyed at the opening of my door. I resent being interrupted when I am so happy. He has come to take this away, I know. I look out the window once again, trying to envision the scene that had been playing in my mind but only seeing the half empty parking lot and the dried up winter dead trees that line it so pitifully. The nurse tries to be cheerful, asking me how I am doing. “How the hell do you think?” I snap. He winces but moves in to adjust my pillows and hand me some pills. I hate these pills. I’ve tried hiding them but they caught on to that pretty quickly. I miss my kids, trying again to “see” them through the window of my mind’s eye. They never come to see me.

A silent tear tracks down my withered cheek and the nurse pats my shoulder, but I shrug him away. I don’t need pity. Love maybe, but never pity. Only when I am alone can I tune out the reality of my life and re-live the past decades; the childhood I treasured, my beautiful boys, my husband, gone for 12 years now. I think of my grandchildren that I never see or hear from. How can one love with such intensity and yet be ignored? Is love so cheap and easy to come by? Has it no value? My arms used to ache to hold my babies, once they were school age and “too old” to be cradled and held by Mother. I watched them grow and become more and more independent, never suspecting that my pride would turn to heartbreak. The nurse leaves quietly, closing the door behind him. I turn back to the window and there they are. My precious boys.