Page 78 - WTP VOl. V #9

Slip-Sliding Away (continued from preceding page)
them, not realizing how the seeds of that love had world, I was ushering an old life out of it, hope- atrophied, dried, and shriveled up from lack of fully into the next. Or, into oblivion.
care. As I said the words, out loud, over and over, her mouth began to move. She must’ve heard me.
The awesome strength of that beating heart was
staggering. When all her other organs had failed She was trying to speak. Only grunts escaped, her, now I wished that it would stop, let her go,
whispered remnants, whiffs of love’s lost residue, leave her be, let her rest.
as she battled to keep breathing. She struggled
and seemed distressed. Her eyes fluttered be-
neath their lids. Her thin lips mouthed words with
no sound. The gurgles kept coming and her heart
kept beating, and I stroked her arm and shoulder
and face. “It’s all okay, Mom, it’s alright, I’m here
and I’m with you and I’m not leaving and it’s all
okay, it will all be fine, don’t be afraid, don’t be
afraid...” I felt strangely like a midwife as I stroked
and chanted this meditation to ward off the ulti-
mate fear, the fear we all carry with us from the
day we are born, the fear we dread but know is Two o’clock Sunday afternoon July 12th my coming. Instead of ushering a new life into this mother died. I called my daughter to confirm that
Her body suddenly sagged.
Her shoulders lifted in a final shrug.
The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest slowed. One more breath.
One more beat.
Then, nothing. Quiet.
After Raining
watercolor, watercolor pencil, and charcoal on paper 27'' x 15'' By Tong Zhang