As she lies there with the tube fluctuating to and fro, here chest rising and falling so slowly and depressing in such a manner that they can't hardly take their eyes off of her. Looking up as the doctor comes in to talk to the family. Whispers echo throughout the room as they suggest to stop the treatment. He creepily walks back into the room to her bedside and without a word kisses her head while brushing her silver hair back from her face. Nothing but a blur can she see but she knows who it is that shows so much compassion for her pain. After a long illness that seemed to persist most of her life she finally felt as though somebody understands without so much as a gesture to let her go. Bending down to whisper in her ear he says, " Mary, I love you very much." " We're going to turn off your machines, you've fought through this for so long, it's time to let you rest now." Immediately she understands, for the first time in a long time she opens her eyes and looks at him. She knows she has given it her all and has nothing else to give. Just a wink is all that she could leave him with. Beeps fill the room, then silence. Nurses plunge to her side to remove the tubes that have kept her alive for so long. Her chest rises and falls, her muscles strain for air. She's breathing on her own and her own strength cannot hold out for long. As her breathes seems to get shorter, slower and more quiet; he sits beside her, holding her hand. 46 years could not have seemed so short. The rings on her finger still glistened in the little bit of light the room had left to offer. Her chest rose and fell, but never rose again. One last time does he brush the hair from her forehead and kiss her on the head, then the lips. Holding back the tears that swelled up in his eyes so. He speaks, " Mary Mary, quite contrary, you left me here alone."
O, Mary, Mary.
January 28, 2012