Читать книгу River House - Sally Keith - Страница 11

3.

When my mother could again recognize herself as living, she gestured

For a paper to write her request: I want Sally to wash my face.

When she knew she would die, she asked for colored pencils and pens.

With cousins visiting, my father came from her room to us, at supper,

To try to say in a normal voice: she doesn’t want to eat again.

She was dying and there was nothing we could do to stop it.

She was dying and before she was dead she had already left.

There was traffic and my sisters were trying to get back to the house.

The nurses said a bright colored shirt would be better. The priest sat with us.

We even ate supper. We sat at the counter endlessly on laptops.

We waited for men to come and take the body out of the house.

That’s normal. That’s what happens when a mother dies in her house.

One day I watched football non-stop. I talked about quarterbacks.

In the morning you go downstairs to find someone crying or you do not.

We got filled with this unexpected feeling of living

Ten days before Thanksgiving, the day my birthday was.