terminal

Tomorrow

It will happen tomorrow, Aviana is sure of it, and when her parents turn the

light off, leaving her alone with the nurse, she thanks her nurse for all her

help in making the last days her family had with her special - almost even

normal - and those happy moments will serve them for the rest of their lives;

The nurse asks Aviana to talk about her favorite parts, if she can, and she does -

Right away she knows the things she memorized the most were the way

everyone's mouths stretched so big when they smiled, and she could see the

skin bunching up next to their eyes, even on the kids; She loved it so much,

because this was a happiness that forced itself into the folds of their skin;

"I like to think the memory will live in those wrinkles," she admits; She goes on

to say she enjoyed seeing people looking at each other with something that

she wouldn't describe as love because it looked more like when someone

needs a drink of water on a really hot day - she explained that she could see

that everyone was hurting and they looked to the people they trusted to lift

them up when their body felt too heavy; This was special because she knew

that everyone would be fine, "Even Brynn looked at Lilly or Dad or Mom, and

sometimes she just looked at Franklin," Aviana tells the nurse how she thinks

Brynn will have the hardest time of everyone in the family - Aviana remembers

how Brynn would always ask to help with Aviana as a baby, and her first steps

were to hug Brynn when she got home from school; Brynn wanted nothing

more than she wanted to be a big sister; When Aviana was born, her dreams

had come true, and when Lilly came, well, some of the novelty had worn off;

But Brynn always told Aviana it was her turn to be the big sister, and so she

passed down traditions and values to Aviana to give to Lilly, and in that way

the three of them were like dominoes, one falling into the other with arms wide

open and a wet kiss planted on both cheeks; Living between two of the best

sisters in the world, Aviana explains, was the real gift, for they showed her

the kind of love that is bone deep - no blood, no water could ever be thicker

or heal better because it was their sisterhood that kept them standing tall;

"And it will keep them standing," Aviana huffs, her body cooling down,

her heart feeling heavy and slow, and her brain feels more like rocks than

the soft pink blob that she saw in pictures - the nurse sees her slowing down

and scoots closer; Aviana feels like there's more to tell, so she whispers

about the smell of food and perfume and sweat, how it was so human

in a way that isn't quite like the smells when animals get together, and

how she heard people describe things as "addictive" in a movie she

watched and that she thinks if she could describe family cookouts that

she would say it was addictive because, of course, "How could you

not want to have a family cookout every single day?" The nurse agrees

with the sentiment, briefly sharing that she loves when she gets to

go back home to her family for holidays; Aviana strays from her memories

and imparts the wisdom that she has, which is also so simple that it

could only have come from a child, "Sometimes I think about the time

I spent being sad about dying, but I was going to die anyway," and she

can feel an eternal slumber coming upon her like a wave crashing against

a harshly cut cliffside, but she finishes her thought like it's her unfinished

business, "I hope my family only do the things that make them happy, since

we all die anyway - I just hope that they don't let bad things steal time

from them because there's no clock saying how much of it is left..."

Aviana doesn't have a clock, just a hunch, and a nurse holding her

hand with tears steaming down her rosy cheeks, snot starting to pool

underneath her nose, but if there was ever a face that she wanted to see

last, it would be a nurse, because this is someone who watches as death

steals the last moments of life away from people as a job; Nurses were

always the ones who put on a brave face and spoke truths when they

absolutely knew she wasn't sleeping and let truths slip between their

pink lips, and she took too long to realize what a blessing it was for these

people to have found sneaky ways to make sure she did not walk to

the end of her sidewalk in the dark; and her hospice nurses, they were

willing to help her orchestrate the most fulfilling final chapter to any book

that could ever be written; Aviana thanked her nurse and said she just

needs one last favor - if she could please let tell the team how much she

appreciated how much they give to everyone they meet, and that she hopes

they take a day off soon so that they can get some much needed rest, and

wasn't it so perfect that the nurse typed the message up and showed it to her;

Aviana nodded to let her know it was good, and she saw that it was sent before

her heavy, dry eyelids started to close without her permission, turning her vision

grey and cloudy until it was completely black; Aviana felt her consciousness

slipping and sliding and sinking into sleep that would soon become her death;

And if she was asked, truth be told, she would say it was a long time coming;

Painless peace hung like a curtain in the air, and she could taste it on her final breath.