Diagnosed with lung cancer, this would maybe be the last time they saw each other, ever again.
“You have always been kind, despite her treatment,” the lady said, her voice being all rusty, so full of death. The girl looked up, raising an eyebrow, expecting an answer. But all she got was a chuckle followed by a weak cough.
”Don’t you think it’s a bit funny, child?” the old lady continued, staring out at something in the distance. The girl couldn’t quite figure out what she was trying to say.
”How we’ve grown to love each other more and more. You see, at first I didn’t know you this much as I do now.”
I thought about that for a while. I really did.
”Take you and me for example. There’s got to be at least 40 years of difference between us. You’ve grown into a beautiful and mature girl, and I am more than proud to have raised you.” She looked at the girl, giving one of those warm and soothing chuckles you couldn’t help but love. So heart breaking, in a way.
”You should be out there enjoying yourself. You shouldn’t be sitting here, and listen to a dying old lady.” she continued, and again the girl had no idea what to say to her.
The lady reached her bony hand up to her face and gently stroked it across her cheek. She smiled, wrinkles forming by her eyes. “You really do look like your mother, more and more each day”
And that was the last time the girl saw her. Just two months later, the lady’s cancer overruled her body, and left her for death. And here I stand, by her grave, ten years later, and still think about the words she spoke, as if she’d practiced them since she got the gift to speak. I reached down to lay a small bouquet of flowers by her grave, with a faint smile on my lips. ”Thank you,” I heard myself speak before turning, and walking off, like I’d done on that day thirty years ago.