The pain of losing an only child

From the distant windows, she could tell that the sky was cloudless and thus the weather appeared glorious and promising. She devoutly wished that that was a sign that she desperately needed in that terrifying and lonely hour. Claudia was reeling in horror as she muttered, hummed and howled uncountable prayers pleading with the angel of mercy to save her from the intrusion of an unwelcomed guest in her life. Her breathing was forceful as the air felt heavy from the lingering black uncertainty that tethered her helpless heart. She did not want to let go and drop her resistance of holding on to that twinkle of hope that mattered more than anything. She dried the cold sweat from her brow as she hoped that that unfathomable darkness would magically turn out to be her daughter’s light.

 

Claudia’s daughter had suffered from another heart attack and she had rushed her to the hospital. Her five year daughter Perry was born with a weak heart that forced Claudia to acquire a physician for her daughter’s medical needs. Despite being a single mum, Claudia worked nail and tooth to ensure that her daughter remained healthy and happy. Life had not always been kind to Claudia, but the moment she held her child for the first time, she experienced a promise to a new beginning of hope and trust. The trust that developed between the two of them was not really spelled out but was equally binding. Her daughter had brought new possibilities and vitality in her life and she was always grateful to have her. But during this moment, as she sat desperately waiting to hear from her daughter again, pain was shooting throughout her shaky body.

Finally, she summoned her weak and frightened body, mind and soul to respond from a nurse’s call. She only managed to make a few clumsy strides before she noticed something horrific from the nurse’s face. The message from her face was as powerful as the still silent screams that were springing from her throat. “Please don’t or don’t please!” She repeated those words over and over as if she was pressing the wrong key. In that instant crippling horror, she reeled in horror unable to maintain her posture she dropped down on her knees. She tried to crawl with her hands and knees all in fours, but she was too weak to crawl either. The nurse rushed to help her up, muttering “I’m sorry” over and over. Claudia was overwhelmed by an ardent desire to be dead too.

Claudia felt like she was in a bad dream, a nightmare that seemed too real to be unreal. Her vision was plaited with memories of her child. Her skin, eyes and all her senses yearned to retain those memories. The texture of softness of her child’s skin and glossy hair, the warmth of those small, light breaths from her delicate nostrils were going to live with her for the rest of her life. How was she going to live without her daughter? Everything she had ever done was for her daughter and now all those activities seemed pointless and linked to her own vanity. The loss of her child was a meaning whose equation could never be solved. Tears seemed an inadequate expression of what she really felt. How was she going to live with that one “Why” for the rest of her life?