Piece of the Week: Place
The room was tiny and painted powder blue to try to make it look larger then it actually was but with the bed and all the life support equipment it still felt like a coffin. There was a tiny window with the blind closed that led into the hallway, for what I don’t know. Through the quietness, all I could hear was the hissing sound of the machine that are keeping my sister alive, all I can see is the rise and fall of her chest, knowing it was the machine breathing for her and all I can imagine is the worst. “Your sister is brain dead” is what the doctors told my mother.
It was almost 30 years ago that my family was awakened by the police telling us that my sister was in a fire and that she was rushed to the emergency room. They said it was serious and to get there as soon as possible. It didn’t become real to me until I went into that tiny room with all those machines for the first time and saw my sister laying there lifeless. I remember getting light headed and having to leave. I tried to visit her again but I wasn’t handling it very well so I didn’t stay very long. Every time I tried I felt like that little blue room would close up on me. There weren’t even windows to look through to the outside.
Five days my mom sat there and talked to her hoping and praying she would defy all odds and wake up. I imagined her sitting up and commenting on what a pretty color this room was or saying “what the hell happened you all look like you just lost your best friend” but she didn’t and time was running out for my mother to decide weather or not to donate her organs. You could see how my mother struggled with the idea of killing her daughter. Together with my other sister they made the decision to take her off life support and donate her organs. I was not there when it happened because my mom thought it would be for the best. There are people alive today because of her.
A whole week went by between the fire and the funeral. Looking at my sister in the coffin, bloated from being on the respirator. She he had this powder blue dress on that reminded me of that tiny, blue room that she died in.
--Fran T.
It was almost 30 years ago that my family was awakened by the police telling us that my sister was in a fire and that she was rushed to the emergency room. They said it was serious and to get there as soon as possible. It didn’t become real to me until I went into that tiny room with all those machines for the first time and saw my sister laying there lifeless. I remember getting light headed and having to leave. I tried to visit her again but I wasn’t handling it very well so I didn’t stay very long. Every time I tried I felt like that little blue room would close up on me. There weren’t even windows to look through to the outside.
Five days my mom sat there and talked to her hoping and praying she would defy all odds and wake up. I imagined her sitting up and commenting on what a pretty color this room was or saying “what the hell happened you all look like you just lost your best friend” but she didn’t and time was running out for my mother to decide weather or not to donate her organs. You could see how my mother struggled with the idea of killing her daughter. Together with my other sister they made the decision to take her off life support and donate her organs. I was not there when it happened because my mom thought it would be for the best. There are people alive today because of her.
A whole week went by between the fire and the funeral. Looking at my sister in the coffin, bloated from being on the respirator. She he had this powder blue dress on that reminded me of that tiny, blue room that she died in.
--Fran T.
posted by johngoldfine | 10/10/2013 07:00:00 AM
2 Comments:
Really a sad piece but you actually can visualize that place by just reading the words
I can really see this place and what it looks like... That's freaky!
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