XXXIV - I HIDE MY TEARS IN THE RAIN, BUT IT DOESN'T WASH OFF THE PAIN

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And it was like that was what she was waiting for

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And it was like that was what she was waiting for.

She held on just long enough to hear those words from her first child. Because after she heard them, it was a matter of time before before she slipped away for good.

Up until that point, all of the machines were emitting sounds at regular intervals. But a few minutes after Nessa verbalised her forgiveness, the beeping started to become erratic. Her breathing was now laboured, and her hand trembled in my grip, as it did in Vanessa's.

She hadn't seen this coming.

It was the first time in a long time she hadn't correctly predicted the most likely outcome.

But I knew she wasn't going to make it.

I could feel it in my bones.

I'd been faced with my own mortality on a number of occasions. Once you had a brush that close with death, it became uncloaked to you, openly wrapping its claws around its next conquest.

I didn't want it to be true. My knees were raw from the amount of time I had spent on them, pleading and bargaining with our maker, but it wasn't to be.

Why God?

Panic buttons were pressed and a slurry of white coated bodies come into the room. Attempts to usher us out of the room were rebuffed and instead, those trying to kick us out were implored to save the life of the women hanging in the balance. Numbers that meant nothing to me were called, before they started the process of defibrillating her. Her body jumped, and I almost fainted at the sight. Vanessa was frozen, in a state of pure shock.

They tried for what felt like hours to save her life.

But then one of the doctors shook her head. And a time was called. Bodies started dispersing, and her form came into view once more.

My mother. From whom I inherited life.

God, Why?

Lifeless, on a hospital bed, thousands of miles away from where she was born.

Marie Tamara Cruz, née Toussant, died on 27th of September, at the age of 48. She passed away after succumbing to injuries she sustained during an ultimately fatal car crash in Geneva, Switzerland. She was a mother of two and a survivor of domestic and intimate partner violence. A complicated woman, who was on the path of rebuilding her life and her relationship with her children, gone too soon.

A mother, A daughter, An immigrant, A survivor.

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