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by Cherylrese Barconia
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Setting of Story: It is springtime in Chicago, Illinois as the sun shines and the birds began to sing underneath their voice is a thunderstorm raging through the heart of a mother that must make a call that will be the destiny of her oldest son. His life has been put in her hands to pull the plug that has been his life support.

It is five o'clock in the morning, everyone in the house is asleep. She gets out of bed with a burden on her heart, she opens the door and walks through the living room to the bathroom. As she washes her face, her tears are blending with the water on her wash clothe. She pushes the curtain back to the shower and she steps in and began running the water her face falls in her hand and she ask the question "why me?" The prayers begin to ring in her spirit hoping God will intervene.

She says to herself, "I have worked in a hospital for over twenty years, I had to console other families that had to do this very thing, I never thought the day would come for me to sit in this seat where they sat". Walking out of the bathroom towards the phone seems like the longest walk she ever took in her life, she picks up the phone with her hands shaking, as she waits for the voice of his doctor, the anticipation is overwhelming. He answers the phone to hear her frail voice speak the words "unplug the support!" with a lump in her throat and a knife in her heart she hangs up the phone. Her tears are falling like rain from a spring shower. Her husband tries to console her, but the pain is too much to bear.

For years she took care of him in a now empty bedroom upstairs. The days she washed his back and changed his clothes prepared special meals for him and gave him medication. She has begun making phone calls to the family preparing for those that will be traveling from across the states. She calls the Church to talk to the Pastor about his eulogy, as she makes these calls her heart is racing with anticipation of the return call from the doctor to tell her he is finally at rest, making her feel faint. It could be days before the call comes.

She goes into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, knowing she doesn't feel like eating, thinking how strong she has to be for the family. She has always been the rock and they can't see her breakdown like this. She goes in the bathroom to touch up her makeup as the doorbell begans to ring seemily every fifteen minutes the family starts to gather. The young children wandering why are they here? They don't know about death, his twin sister is starting to feel the seperation that's about to take place, thinking we have been together for over forty years, half of my heart, and the right side of my soul is leaving me forever.

As his mother she could not continue to watch him suffer, he lied there in that bed out of touch with reality with tubes and a machine feeding him life! Thinking to herself out of my womb and into a cold world he came, but in the bosom of her heart to the land of eternity he will sail!" She searches her closet trying to find her best black suit, believing she just heard the phone rang, but it was the alarm in her spirit, she knew he is gone home; the doctor didn't need to call, it was a maternal instinct that surpassed all telephone connections.

After the doctor called to confirm what she already knew, she notified the funeral home he was coming. The grandmother has arrived, she is the peace in the mist of this storm. She grabs her daughter and embraces her with a mothering hug and a gentle kiss. She whispers in her ear "he's in a better place now". As the day has now come the family gathers to watch the white stretch limo turn the corner, the mother passes out red roses to place in his casket. She leads them out the door as a General leads an Army, today she has to be strong for them, but after this day someone will need to pick up the pieces of her broken heart.


If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
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Sharon Singley 10 Jan 2006
Very sad story. Keep working at it, you have a writer's touch.


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