A Slow Departure

A stream of morning sunshine glistened through the blinders onto the ultra-sterilized sheets. Queue of medical apparatuses on either side of the bed beeped rhythmically observing her final precious hours. The clock ticked loudly in the silent room. I continued to stare at her. Her face was pale, drained off life. The solely glittering sunbeam traveled gradually across the sheets to her emotionless face. Her eyes fluttered open, she woke up and her hands gripped over mine as she realized the intense pain. All were desperate for her comfort. But she was comfortable sleeping. The machines beeped at a different tone now, noisily and quickly. The oncologist rushed in and examined her. He said nothing. He need not say anything because we all knew that her end is just a step close. We all knew that she will be comfortable sleeping….

I saw the throbbing pain in her eyes, yet she gave me a re-assuring smile as though everything was picture perfect. I wanted to weep out loudly to someone, make a heartfelt imploration, just to get Michelle her life back. “I am excited…” she said, breaking the heavy silence, breaking the loud cry within me. “I am excited..” she continued in a raspy tone, “to meet that unseen invincible power…the power on whom I have laid my faith on…..I’m dying to see Him..”. I replied her with a silence and straightened the bed sheet. “One tiny wish left….I want to play a game of bingo with you” she said with a weak smile. “Yes Michelle…I’ll be back” and I left the ward. Ironically I asked the nurse to watch over her, an act for my satisfaction. As I walked to the nearby department store to buy a game box of bingo, countless memories rushed in. Memories I had with Michelle. Her glowing countenance, her infectious laughter and the iron strong will power within her. Having felt failures after failures, nothing stopped her from loving her life. She loved playing bingo. “The joy of feeling lucky is simply special…And friends, I’m only lucky at the game of bingo!” with a giggle she used to comment each time she won. Like loose pearls rolling down from a cut string, we saw her drifting away slowly from life, continuously fighting the battle at every stage with an undeterred valor Yet, she smiled each time upon the realization that she was being defeated.

I rushed back to the hospital with the box containing the bingo tickets and the numbered coins. There was a lot of tension down the aisle of Michelle’s ward. I knew what was ought to happen. But this time, there was no loud weep or any heartfelt imploration. It was just a small prayer…let her be at peace. The doctor told me how sorry he was. Her death was confirmed. A midst the small milling crowd that gathered at the aisle I fell on my knees weeping silently, leaving the clatter of the falling numbered coins prevail over.