The Death of a Loved One

Seconds of my life stood still as I closed the door to my mother's room. Those few seconds made me realize just how much this woman meant in my life. When I closed the door, I struggled within my heart. I wanted to believe her abscence is temporary, that she will again fill theroom with energy, drip coffee aroma, and cigarettes. The oxygen tank is silent but the "hiss-hoo" lingers and emanates from each white sterile wall. I close the door with the most reverence of a cathedral's entrance. The closing loosens tears, ties knots in my stomach, and releases pent up sadness.