Disappeared Like the Light She Blew Out …
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny
She stood in the middle of the room … actually three rooms together … no doors … only a wall here, there. It was a wonderful ‘big’ room.
One area was for the living room … another area was where the fireplace was … this was the den. The other area was the dining room where the china hutch sat in it’s glory … she could see all the colorful, happy pieces of glass she had collected … inside.
The short walls around the dining room had decorative glass … the frosted, decorative glass gave the atmosphere of cosy privacy … like in a quaint, little restaurant.
On this particular day … the house looked warm, cozy … happy. She turned slowly around thinking this was the first time she had really looked around her in several months. She felt a surge of happiness that quickly … went away.
She had no right to be happy … her son had just died. How could she forget that? Her shoulders dropped … she couldn’t do this … she sat down, placed her head in her hands.
Tears began running down her wrists … teardrops wet, cold. She had wanted to call someone to share her moment of happiness with. There wasn’t anyone to call … she had tried to call her husband. He didn’t answer … he was a thousand miles from home, on a big truck.
She couldn’t call her mother … her cousins she was close to … her aunts … grandmother … her brother. Her mind went over the list of all the people she loved with her Heart. They had all died in the past few years … the very ones she loved dearly. There wasn’t anyone left in her family she even desired to be know, be close to.
This photo is the last photo taken of my son just a short time before he collapsed, died at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. May 29, 2010 … Saturday evening. I miss you, Son. My son, Tommy. No one knew he was sick … 3 blockages to his heart.
She thought of her son. Her shoulders shook as she cried silently. She never cried aloud … her sobs were always hidden … they came from deep inside. She cried now … her son was dead … so was all the rest of her family. She had no one left … only her husband, her dogs.
Nineteen people … a major number of people in her life … had died, gone away … forever. She took one last look around the big room … she thought how pretty it looked.
There were candles in the fireplace … they burned brightly through the glass doors. She looked out the sliding doors … the trees were beautiful, green. Some of the leaves had already turned red, yellow. Fall time … her favorite time of the year.
Her husband called her often … he worried about her. Sometimes, their cellphones couldn’t get through … they lost signal. At this moment … she couldn’t reach him.
She stood up … looked toward the fireplace … she watched the flames burn … tried to draw in the happiness of watching them … failed. She had no right to be happy … her son had just died … her mama was gone … her precious brother was gone, too. Every person she thought of … gone. All were gone away to never come back.
She walked to the fireplace, opened the doors … blew the big, fat burning candles out, closed the door. She stood, looked through the glass on the doors … pure, black darkness … now.
Den Area … Kissy on the ottoman … he was born November 02, 2010 … my only child, my son Tommy … was born on November 20, 1968 … Tommy died May 29, 2010.
Pure, black darkness … for a moment her candle inside had burned to match the brightness of the candles in the fireplace … now, inside … matched the pure, black darkness inside the fireplace doors.
There wasn’t anyone to ever know she had become aware of the world once again … it was short-lived. She never reached her husband for the short time she was aware she was in the world.
She lay on her side of the bed … blankets wrapped around her. Her dogs laid around her … everyone was asleep. She never heard the cellphone when it rang. She was gone now … wouldn’t become aware of anything for months later.
She had done like the candles she had blown out … disappeared like the light did … became pure, black darkness.
Tommy’s Chest … this is all I have left of my son. This chest is always sitting there quietly … waiting for me to come to open it … take all out to touch, look at … to … remember. The times I’ve tried to open it … to take something out … I became physically sick. I couldn’t go on … I closed Tommy’s Chest up … it’s still waiting for me to come open it. When I do, I’ll keep my promise to let you know … maybe with photos … show you several things in it. I’ve forgotten what’s inside.
Note by this Author:
True story, photos are written, owned by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.
I can look back and remember those few moments of feeling aware of the world around me … it was briefly lived. There wasn’t anyone to talk to … no one to call … I was all alone in this big, old world.
I might have gotten better quicker if I had had a family support system. I had no one. Skip had to work, be gone long periods of time. I had no one at all.
Before … I used to call my mother, brother … there was always someone to call to share news with … happy or sad. At the time my son died … I had lost all of them … only briefly did I remember.
Afterwards … I didn’t remember anymore because during the next several years … I don’t remember thinking at all. I know I did … but, it didn’t matter … my son had died. My world had come to an end … The End.