Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: LEAVE (11/16/23)
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TITLE: When The Righteous Fly | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
11/21/23 -
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A dozen masked hopefuls stared out windows as the sliding doors eased open. The receptionist hunched over her computer pecking away at something important. “Not looking too promising out there,” an ancient warrior mumbled, as he eyed my sopping wardrobe. “Must be something tough to bring you out on a day like today. You aren’t a doctor, are you?”
“Not for this, I’m not,” I said. “I’m here for my mother. She’s had her third stroke and this one is massive.”
“It’s tough to let them leave,” he said, shifting in his wheelchair.
“It’s her ninety-first birthday,” I replied. “I prayed that she would make it to this day and now it seems as if it came too fast.”
“You know the Jewish proverb, don’t you?” he said. “If a person passes to heaven on their birthday, it’s proof that they are among the righteous.”
“I guess that might be a consolation,” I said. The puddle forming around me was expanding quickly, so I retrieved a large green towel from a trolley and soaked up the water before returning it. The old man watched my every move. “Don’t want anyone slipping and hurting themselves,” I told him.
“Tell me about your mother,” he said.
I studied his hazy chocolate eyes and he seemed sincere. “She was born in a taxi at the crossroads of a prairie town, because they didn’t get to the hospital in time. She married my father at a Bible School and became a missionary to head hunters in the jungles of Ecuador. There were five of us and we all still live out her legacy of faith.”
He nodded. “Keep her memory alive. When the righteous leave to go home, they need to know they’re going to be remembered.”
“I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure how that might happen,” I said. “I’ve never been an orphan before.”
The chuckle caught me by surprise and I glanced at him. His eyes twinkled. “There’s a big difference between living as an orphan and living with an orphan spirit. Your mother is going home and she’ll be waiting for you when it’s your time. But you still have someone who has promised to never leave you nor forsake you.”
I sloughed off my jacket and pondered his words. “Guess I better say goodbye before she leaves,” I said. “The nurse said it wouldn’t be long now.”
The room was still and dark. My mother’s breathing was slow and sporadic, raspy, struggling. I glanced out the window of her tenth-floor room and the twinkling of Christmas lights from a nearby window caught my eye. It was someone else’s birthday celebration coming soon, and he was truly a righteous one. Did he also die on his birthday?
Mom was clutching a stuffed toy lion in one hand, her other hand and limbs stiff and unmoving. The other three patients laying in the ward were restless, she was calm. There were no tubes, monitors, or lifesaving measures holding her back. I laid my hand on her hand. From memory, I recited Psalm 23, prayed over her, and kissed her goodbye, once each for my siblings and then for the 18 grandkids and 24 grandkids. Within a minute her last breath eased over her lips and there was no more.
The nurse arrived and applied the stethoscope to her chest, checked her eyes, and waited. “She’s gone,” she whispered.
“Happy Birthday, mom,” I said. “You truly were the righteous one. Welcome home.”
Half an hour later, as I strolled out the entrance, I noticed the old man’s wheelchair sitting abandoned by the exit. “What happened to the old man?” I asked the receptionist.
“Not sure,” she said. “He shows up here once in a while. I saw him get up out of his chair and go to the elevator. He said that the time had come to take a righteous sister home. Sometimes he talks in riddles.”
“Is he an angel?” I asked.
“Not sure, but he sure knows when it’s time to leave.”
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Probably not- but your piece was wonderful.
Great view of the topic.
Congratulation!