Devoted To You || Gilbert Blythe

XII

~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
Death. A noun meaning the permanent end of all functions of life in an organism or some of its cellular components.
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On the haunting night that claimed my mother to scarlet fever, the air was so thick with impending tragedy, I clung to her bedside. The room echoed with whispers as my once-vibrant mother lay pale and fragile, stolen by the disease.

Beside her, Alexander mirrored the impending sorrow, and my father's eyes betrayed fear. In the flickering candlelight, my mother spoke words of love, a lullaby that she sang when we were young. Despair settled in as the night wore on, shadows dancing with the turmoil in my young heart.

In the quiet moments before the illness stole her voice, I sat by my mother's side, the weight of impending loss pressing upon my young heart. The flickering candlelight painted shadows across her weakened face, and her eyes, once vibrant, now held a serene acceptance.

I took her frail hand in mine, seeking comfort in the warmth that still lingered within her touch. "Mama," I whispered, my voice a fragile echo in the room.

She managed a tender smile, her gaze meeting mine. "Ada, my precious one."

Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over, as I struggled to find the words. "You'll get better, won't you, Mama? We can't be without you."

She traced a gentle caress on my cheek, a bittersweet expression crossing her face. "Oh, my darling Ada, sometimes life takes us on unexpected journeys. But remember, love transcends all boundaries. It lives on in the memories we create, in the shared laughter and tears."

I nodded, trying to absorb the depth of her wisdom. "But I need you, Mama. Who will guide me?"

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the pain of a mother leaving her child behind. "You're stronger than you know, Ada. You have your father, your brother, and a heart full of love. Promise me you'll carry that love forward, even in my absence."

I squeezed her hand, a silent vow resonating between us. "I promise, Mama. But I'll miss you every day."

She whispered words of encouragement, imparting the strength she believed I possessed. As the night wore on, her voice grew softer, yet the love she poured into her final words lingered in the air.

"Remember, my dearest Ada, I'll be a part of every sunrise, every gentle breeze. Love knows no boundaries, my love."

And in that quiet room, with the flickering candle as our witness, I held onto her words, carrying the essence of her love as a guiding light through the looming darkness of grief. My mother drew her last breath. The cry that escaped my lips shattered innocence, marking a traumatic awakening. Amidst shared grief, my father whispered, "She'll always be with us, Ada. In our hearts. Forever."

Tears flowed down rapidly. "Goodbye, Mama."

***

I take in a deep breath as I remember my mother's words. I feel her in every breeze, I see her in every sunrise and sunset. She has no boundaries.