Last Request

“I'm in pain,” she whispers underneath a mask of steam.

It hurts to open her eyes, but she could see just enough to make out a few people standing around her, their rosaries dangling from their fingertips. It hurts to listen, but she could hear the soft mumbling of prayers and sobs. She feels a hand touch her forehead as another graces her arm. Cold and shaky, but she does not have the energy to warm and comfort them. She is slowly forgetting how to breathe, entering the final stages of an illness she never saw coming.

“I’m tired,” she utters behind a light-blue, plastic cover full of oxygen.

She lies still, curled up in a tiny ball of fatigue. Moving her mouth as if to say something, but yet nothing comes out, not even air. She sees the others move in closer as if to examine her like some caged creature being studied under a microscope. Different faces approach her. Some sad, with flushed cheeks and eyes flooded with tears. Others hide their sadness behind happy smiles and joyful tones.

One by one, they reintroduce themselves to her. Kissing her hand, rubbing their fingers through her hair, staring into her eyes hoping that somehow she will call out to them with some sort of recognition. Anything to show that she once knew what they meant to her. She nods politely, unable to match a name to a face. Few were fortunate to receive such satisfaction as a giggle, but many were left disappointed.

“How I wish I could do more for you,” she sighed as they turned their backs and walked away.

A man enters, dressed in a white coat with a clipboard in hand. The people surrounding her slowly walk towards him, anxiously waiting for what he has to say. As he speaks, more tears fall from the others’ eyes. It’s hard for her to make out too much of the details, but through bits and pieces she picks up the “Glory of Life” and “It is time.” Some cover their mouths and bow their heads in silence. The man pauses as if in need of a response, but no one manages to say a word. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“There isn’t much we can do,” he says solemnly.

She comes to realize the life he was referring to is her own. The time is her time and the people in the room are her family. They stand motionless, unable to accept the fact that she will never recover, that her health is quickly deteriorating. She could feel them pulling for something more, thinking the man’s words are only hypothetical and that there must be something else they could try, anything to keep her going just a little longer.

She looks at herself. Trapped in a hospital bed with paper-thin sheets wrapped around her, tubes jutting out from each side. All this technology and intricate equipment set to feed her, nourish her, and assist her breathing. Yet though it can keep her alive she knows it cannot live for her. Her body is weak. She cannot hug anyone back or hold anyone’s hand so tight and say, “Everything will be alright.” Her energy slowly drains away while her mind continues to draw a blank. She cannot create any more memories nor cherish the many she once held dear. She breathes through a mask and tube, her heart beats through a monitor, but she no longer wishes to live through a machine.

The eldest daughter sees her mother’s sunken face and bends down to hear her last request.

“I’m ready to go…” Ma said.

It Happened Last Night

I remember it as if it really did happen. After all, it was just another one of my dreams, but the interesting part was that no matter how many times I woke up from tossing and turning, I would fall back asleep and pick up where I left off.

The same place: a Paseo lined with rustic, orange-colored cobblestones that curled and connected to a variety of shops and cafes. A large fountain at the center bathed a statue of two cupids sitting on a cloud. One holding a bow and arrow and the other, a heart, eager to be its next target. Coins glistened at the bottom of the water.

"Wishes still waiting to be granted," I thought to myself.

I walked passed it. Letting the sun hit my face and feeling the warmth of its energy as I made my way through the crowd. I thought I saw my parents up ahead so I picked up the pace to catch up, suddenly realizing that they were walking towards me.

My mom was dressed in a pale, peach top and matching long skirt. Her black, high-heels clanked against the pathway with each step she made. My dad was not too far behind, wearing gray slacks and a long-sleeve, collared-shirt. As they approached the fountain, I knew something was very odd. My mom's hair was long and extremely curly with high bangs pinned half-way back. Not her usual cropped do that I'm used to seeing.

"Wow, that grew fast," I thought.

But then I saw my dad with a head full of hair that almost covered his eyes.

I gasped.

They were my parents alright, but a whole 20-years younger!

I rubbed my eyes in disbelief. There I was, a full grown adult, standing next to my parents of the same age.

A little girl with layers of thin black hair was holding my mom's hand. She was wearing a white, cotton dress and sandals. She looked up at me and smiled before running off into my dad's arms. He picked her up and placed her onto his shoulders. They continued passed me, down the walkway blending in with the sunlight and the crowd until I couldn't see them anymore.

I turned back around and took a few steps in the other direction when my sisters came up to me. It was a relief to see them at the age they are now.

"Hey Bub, where were you?" the youngest one asked as she pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail.

"We want to get some coffee and maybe a pastry or two," the oldest said, looking around with her hand over her eyes to block the sun.

"Oh, just walking around," I answered. "Gotta wash my hands first though..." I said as if what just happened never happened at all. "Where's the bathroom?" I asked.

"Oh geez...you know where it is," the youngest said rolling her eyes.

"But we don't go to that nasty one remember? They created a bigger, family bathroom. It's much prettier," the eldest continued.

As they both discussed their love for its interior design filled with comfy couches and decorative counter tops and tables, I found myself already there! And it was magnificent. Soft lighting, lovely paintings on the walls...I mean, for a bathroom it was a little over the top, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

Then suddenly an even stranger thing happened.

As I was washing my hands, a little boy probably about 7 or 8 years old, tugged at the edge of my shirt. I turned to face him. He had curly hair and almond-colored skin. He was wearing a red shirt and dark denim pants.

"Hey, almost done? Dad's waiting for you outside and told me to tell you to hurry please..." he said with a smile.

"Oops, kid made a mistake," I thought.

"Finish up. We'll meet you outside. K, mom?" he said as he ran out the door.

"What...what did he just call me..." I said to myself as I made my way to one of the couches, leaving the water running and my hands full of soapy bubbles.

Kids started to pour in with their moms or dads. Some even stared at me as they made their way to the sink.

After what felt like years, I finally got up and washed the dried soap off my hands and made my wait to the exit.

The little boy was standing next to an older boy with a buzzed cut.

"About time," they both said in unison. "Dad's in the sporting goods store like always," the eldest continued, pointing over to the right. "You coming inside?" he asked.

I suddenly realized that this was my life. My past, my present and my future. The fountain separated each time zone and as I made my way around it, I entered into a new world where everyone changed around me, yet somehow I managed to stay the same.

The question was, "Which direction was I going to take next?"

And even though I knew it was all in my head, I reacted as if it were the real thing. And I held onto those moments knowing that soon I would wake up for good.