Death Can Never Part Anyone - VỊT DOÃN

Death can never part bà Nội và con Vịt 

Ever since my mother has passed away, I thought I was going to have a horrible life. With no one to comfort or protect me and be by my side…who would fill in that spot? However, as I grew much older…I noticed everything I wondered about will always be with me.
     You see, when I was 5 years old, my mother got in a tragic car accident. When I came to the scene, there were puddles of blood and the car was basically turned over. The engines had already died out and steam emerged from it. The car's tires twirled weakly in the air; slowing down minute by minute. Policemen shoved my grandmother and me within the growing crowd as they investigated. Moments later, sirens were to be heard – crying louder and louder, wailing for everyone to notice. Those sirens belonged to an ambulance, which showed up a few minutes later. It approached the crowd, slicing through to get entrance. At that time, I didn’t know what was going on. I was wondering why people were silently crying, covering their mouths in shock, and whispering. As I turned towards the car, I focused on the victim. As the ambulance people pulled her out, I recognized the woman’s face immediately. It was my mother’s; covered in blood, scars, and despair. All of a sudden, I started weeping- tears flowing down nonstop.
And I thought I was the happiest girl of my life…that day changed it all.
    Monitors beeped as I sat by my mother in the hospital bed, squeezing her hand tightly. Her eyes were still closed shut, not wanting to open after the incident. Small droplets of salty tears dripped down to my chin, as I stared at her. Beside me was my father, sniffling here and there. I knew he wanted to cry as much as I did, but he kept it in. Out of the blue sky, I felt my mother’s hand twitched in mines. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at me. She weakly smiled and felt my face. “Sarah...” My mom spoke up to me, “Be a good girl, okay? I...love you...” Her voice shook as she tried to talk.
   “Mom..?” I called out. Her hand fell to her side as she closed her eyes again. A single tear seeped from her eye and slid to the pillow. “MOM?!” I began to nudge her. “..MOM! DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES AGAIN!” The doctor came rushing in from hearing my screams and felt her pulse. He hesitantly stared at the floor. “Well?” My dad’s soft voice filled the empty room. “She’s gone...I’m sorry.” I sank to the floor, my pink flowy dress spreaded across the cold surface. My body shook vigorously and I wanted to cry...but I couldn’t. It was like there’s no more tears left in my body. My grandmother kneeled beside me and stroked my back. I immediately receded from her touch, as it made me feel like daggers are piercing into my skin. In the background, my father was pleading the doctor to do everything to bring my mother back. “I can’t, sir. I’m sorry...she’s too severely injured. We can’t do anything else.” The doctor explained and left the room. All three of us huddled together and gazed at my pale mother. Blood drained from my face when nurses came in to take my mother away. One of them covered her with a thin, white sheet from her head to toes. My eyes widened. I stood up and asked my grandmother, “Why are they covering mommy like that? They have to let her breathe! They can’t just do that! Mommy doesn’t like to be covered completely! She told me that when we always slept together at night.” I threw a fit in the cold room, receiving sad facial expressions from the nurses. My grandmother pulled me back on the couch and hugged me tightly. The nurses transferred my mother to a separate hospital bed and swiftly moved her out of the room. Until I couldn’t see my mother anymore, the ‘tear switch’ flicked back on and I started weeping uncontrollably. My eyes glued on to the empty bed, where my mother has laid in. The warm spot still had the shape of my mother’s figure. I looked away, not wanting to cry even more. I was such a stubborn child, making my mother even more stressed. She’s done everything for me and I took her for granted. Biggest mistake of my life. I sat next to my father, his arms embracing me, thinking of what I could’ve done to be a better child. Guess I was too late, huh?
    I stood next to my mother’s coffin as the funeral house was opened. Gloomy, but familiar faces of her friends approached to the coffin all day long; as they paid their respects for my mother. “Aw, look at her 5 year old daughter”, one of the ladies muttered to her husband, “Losing her mother was probably the hardest thing ever. Poor her.”
What the lady had said was true… after my mother was gone, I felt like there was nothing in life for me to aim for.
    I brushed my hair, ever so gently, looking at my 9 year old self in the mirror. 4 years has surprisingly passed by and today was the day of my mother’s death anniversary. “Sarah! Come down here! Let’s get to the cemetery!” My father called out from downstairs. I replied back and quickly ran to the stairs. “Sarah, put a smile on your face. You’re always looking so sulky.” My father would always remind me when we step foot out of the house. “Well, what’s the point of smiling when mommy will never get the chance to see it?” My father would then sigh desperately and enter the car.
     I glanced at my mother’s picture on her tombstone- not taking my eyes off it once. I gently placed the flowers on the grass and proceeded on taking a glimpse at the picture... ‘Hi, mom! It’s great to see you again…I’ve missed you.’ My toothless smile told to her. I stared at the picture, wondering if she can hear me. Interuppting my thoughts, father sat next to me and ruffled my hair. “Your mother’s very pretty..” He stared at the picture, too.
    “Sarah! You look just like your mother, since you are all grown up! You’re inheriting her beauty! You should be proud..” My grandmother complimented me before she left for her hometown. I am proud, I thought to myself, waving good-bye to her. I cheekily smiled as I headed to my car to drive home.
     “Dad! I dropped grandmother off already!” I took a munch out of an apple, seeing my father appearing from his room. “Oh, really? Did she say anything to you?” He sat on the couch, flipping through channels on the television screen. “Not much..” I continued, “but she did say I looked like mom!” Cheerfully laughing, he hugged me. “Well, I do have to agree with her on that one! My 17 year old daughter’s so beautiful!” His eyes glistened while he talked. “You were such an ugly duckling but now you have grown into a beautiful swan.” Then, a question popped into my mind. “Dad…is that bad?” I asked and waited for his answer. My father chuckled at my stupid question, “No! It just means…mom always be with you. Whether she’ll be next to you, in your blood, or in your heart.”
And with those few words, it have made me found my happiness. Whether gone or not, death will never conquer the love between anyone. Therefore, my mother has been with me ever since.