Waging Wars
She’s been on that bed for almost a week now. She lies there as lifeless as if she’d already been dead. The doctor and I wait for her to wake up. I stay in the room most of the time while he occasionally walks in and out checking on how she's doing, on how I’m doing.
I knew she wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. Even the doctor didn’t believe she would. He never told me this exactly, but I could tell by the way he looked at me. I didn’t blame him though; he was only trying to leave a strand of hope for me to hold onto. It didn’t work, but it is part of his job to try.
“What would you like to do Mr. Clark?” He asked in a moderate manner as he put down the clipboard.
“I don’t know yet.” I answered.
“Take your time.” As he said these words he rested his hand on my shoulder. It comforted me; I didn’t have anyone else to grieve with. I’m all she has.
He left the room with a gentle step as the door shut behind him.
After a while I began to pace the room back and forth not knowing what to do or how to handle this situation. I’m all alone. My mind is misdirected every which way from the decision I have to make. I look up at her and instantly— I felt myself still. She is beautiful. I don’t need any other words to describe her. The dimple she has beneath her chin, a scar that goes from her nose to her lip. All these little details I loved about her, and with a sad heart I said to her.
“I'm keeping you prisoner aren’t I?”
I knew she would rather be free by soul then imprisoned in body, but for some reason I didn’t have the strength to let her go. She is the love of my life; she always was ever since I was young. I just wish that I could have one more day with her. To see her smile light up my life as it always did. I know what that would do though. It would leave me wanting one more day after another. It wouldn’t be right for me to do that to her.
I felt my temper rise and fall continuously; I clenched my hand together underneath my chin hoping to calm my nerves.
“I’m so sorry, I know I promised you, but you don’t have to carry around the burden of knowing you were the one who made this decision of letting go. You are not the one who has to say goodbye. You—”
  I begin to break down. I’ve lost all strength at this point. I didn’t wipe the tears that were trickling off me face. I let them drop down for as long as they could.
  As I sat in silence for what seemed like forever, I began to think about the night of my birthday. It was a few years back but it was one of the happiest days of my life. She had taken me to my favorite restaurant, somewhere not many people knew about, and as we sat down her cheeks began to dimple and the corner of her eyes wrinkled.  She had made me laugh the whole entire time I was with her though her jokes weren’t all too funny. I remember that she made me laugh so hard I snorted and continuous laughter burst out of our cheeks simultaneously. We were asked to leave the restaurant because we were said to be a “public disturbance”. After dinner, we walked along the highway talking about things we haven’t been able to for a while. Her weak hands began to quiver so I gave her my jacket. We walked for at least two hours, went back to my car and I drove her home.
I felt a smirk begin to form itself. My heart was steady. She always knew how to calm me down through whatever emotion I put myself through without having to say a word. I started to realize that there were many reasons to let her go. She had lived a wonderful life full of joy and excitement. Why am I grieving over this? Why am I putting myself through so much sorrow when I knew she’d want me to be happy? Happy for the life she lived and for what she had made of it. That’s all she ever wanted. She wanted me to be proud and I sure as hell was.
  “I guess all I want to say to you know is thank you. Thank you for trying to stop the wars I waged on myself. Thank you for stopping the wars I waged on you.”
I reached out my arm and held her head in my hands and spoke to her with content.
“Never leave me, mom.”
As the doctor walks in for the last time he looks at me, within his eyes I could see kindness. That’s all he ever was to me this whole time we’ve been here. Yet I was blinded by my misery to recognize it. I look up but couldn’t see him clearly for my tears were beginning to blur my vision. With a sad smile and a small head gesture to one another, he begins the withdrawal.
The infinite sound of death pierces my heart. I hear the murmuring of the doctors and nurses beside me. I didn’t try to make out what they were saying because when looked at my mom, nothing else around me mattered. I walk up to her bedside, bend down to kiss the bridge of her nose, and gently press my forehead against hers. I smile now knowing she would be smiling right back and whisper to her,
“I love you.”