A Date With Destiny - Fiction

I was summoned to come and say goodbye to my mother before she died.  Even though I knew for months that my mother was sick, I was ill prepared for such a phone call.  I simply wasn’t ready.  But then again, who is ready for death?  As much as I tried, I couldn’t wrap my head around the notion that, except for family photos and video tape, I’d never see her again.  I’d never be able to call her for advice and lean my head on her shoulders.  She was more than my mother.  She was my best friend.  Mournful of my impending loss, I strained my voice to tell God how much I hated him.  He is the all mighty and the all powerful.  How could he take her away from me?  For a moment, I was angry with my mother too.  Why couldn’t she fight harder?  How could she let her soul slip away?  How could she leave me here on earth to deal with life without her presence, encouragement, love and support?  These were only some of the feelings that violated my mind. 

Other thoughts made me cringe.  On the drive to the hospital I felt as if it was a beautiful day to die.  The sky was the most magnificent shade of blue, and at six o’clock in the morning, the weather was already seventy-five degrees.   I spent more time looking at the sky than at the cars that were racing in front of me, and for a fleeting moment, I considered accelerating to the point of dangerously losing control, but hurting someone else in the process of ending my own life kept my foot from flooring the accelerator. 

Somehow, without being mindful of my surroundings, I made it to the hospital.  My mother was lying on the bed.  She looked well older than her sixty years.  Her hand was cool; her body still.  I sat there, holding her and crying hysterically as the gurgling in her throat became even more intense.   And then I gasped and had a crazy sense of relief.  My mother smiled after taking her last breath. 

TO BE CONTINUED