A Rose For Him

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Her grandfather is dying of cancer. This is her last chance to say goodbye to the last bit of family she has.

Submitted: February 16, 2015

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Submitted: February 16, 2015

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She opened her eyes to her grandfather in his deathbed, the last scrap of family she had left. She had stayed overnight to watch over him, wait until he was gone. She had held his hand for hours, begging God to help him live, but finally she accepted that it was time. Her grandfather had lived to the ripe old age of eighty seven, so begging for more was unnecessary, no matter how painful it was to just give up.

Her grandfather had been diagnosed with cancer, and with her small job as cashier, she couldn’t pay for the more effective treatments. He lived in the hospital, constantly in pain, slowly dying as his granddaughter watched. Now was the time, and hopefully he wouldn’t have to witness her pain of his life.

Hopefully, he won’t see as she traces the marks that her grandfather graced the world with. Hopefully, he’ll be up in heaven, with his son and wife and daughter-in-law. Hopefully, they’ll forget the pains of life and love and hatred and happiness. Hopefully, all they will experience is joy, at the end of his suffering.

But this was it, this was time. She picked up the wilted rose from the chair beside her, and placed it on his chest, between his hands. She couldn’t afford a funeral; this was his funeral. Slowly she walked out of the room, looking at his tan, leathery face and worn fingers. Tracing his frown lines with her eyes, and remembering his smile that would light up the room when she was little. The smile that faded ever since the accident.

Gently closing the door behind her, she looked into the room through the glass window. A nurse in her blue uniform stepped by her side.

“It’s time.”

She nodded, tears clouding her vision, her last view of her last shred of happiness, ready to disappear.

“He’s ready,” she half sobbed, wiping her nose.

The nurse nodded quietly, and hesitated, not sure if she should leave the girl’s side. The nurse strode quietly into the room, crouching beside the old man. He opened his eyes and stared into hers.

“She loves you, you know.”

“She’s the best thing that ever happened to me,” he wheezed, his watery eyes glinting. “I want her to know that.”

The old man played with the petals of the blood red rose, the thorns chipped off. He closed his eyes, and the nurse injected medicine into his arm, causing him to fall into a light slumber, one that he would never wake from.

The nurse swiftly left the room, reassuringly patting the girl’s back. The girl stood in silence as she watched the rhythmic rise and fall of her grandfather’s chest slow to a stop. Tears fell through her lashes, spattering on the front of her uniform shirt. She covered her eyes, not wanting to see him anymore.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He wants you to know that,” the nurse murmured. When the girls slow fall of tears continued, she said more confidently, “He’s in a better place now.”

“I sure hope so,” the girl whispered, and walked slowly from the nurse’s comfort.

Gently opening the door to the room again, she sat down in her chair once more, lightly taking the flower from her grandfather's hands, picking off the petals one by one.

“He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me…“ She collected all of the petals and pushed them into her jeans’ pocket, placing the bare stem back in between his fingers.

And there she sat, not moving as her heart ripped itself apart and shriveled inside of her and she cried without tears. The kind of crying you hate, the one full of sadness and hate and pain. The silent cry.


© Copyright 2019 Evangelina Samuell. All rights reserved.

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