Heartstrings

Parting Rose

It's not easy, what I do. I'd perfected the thin-lipped smile, gotten used to being the most unwelcome guest imaginable. My sister, however, had the better end of the deal. She got to hold tiny fingers as they curled in senseless but cute fists. She got to fill warm little lungs with their first breath of fresh air.

I, however, clearly had drawn the short straw. The hands I would hold would either be shaking out of control or limp like a dead fish. (Believe me, I've held many of those—dead fish, I mean.) Their fear and anguish always burned through my bones as frail fingers desperately clutched at mine.

But mostly, there would be regret. Hot and sticky as it made its way down my throat, seeping from those that never said goodbye, those that never said 'I love you,' and the ones that left the bitterest taste in my mouth and veins: those that never said 'I'm sorry.' Their souls would ooze out like thick tar, oily and unwilling to move, looking for the smallest window to slip back into the body. But, it was always too late. If I was there, that meant it was too late.

I try to make it better for them, I really do. I whisper sweet nothings in their minds, reminding them of the good times they've had and the good they've done if any. In significant contrast to my sister, I'd help emanate that last, rattling breath as painlessly as possible.

Sometimes though, circumstances prevent me from doing my best. You see, I can't swim. So anything to do with large bodies of water would not be an ideal situation. I am sorry to any who had been in water their last moments – I tried my best.

There were few who went willingly. Those were the ones that brought a smile to my stiff face. We called them the Good Ones. Their souls were light and feathery, and they always tried to smile through their tears. They had loved and cried, hurt, and forgiven. Sometimes their lives were not very long but they were always happy in the end.

Today's client was a Good One.

She was in the ICU when I was summoned. Car accident, I was told. She was only twenty-three. Hit by a drunk driver who died on the spot. He had been a gang member who'd raped and killed several little girls. I feel relieved I didn't have him assigned to me.

I swallowed against the bitter hospital smell that lingered in the back of my throat and turned my attention to her. Tangled up in a mesh of wires, she lay on the hospital bed; her eyes were fluttering in confusion. I was a little early. Her father's hand cocooned her frail fingers, keeping them warm. The brown waves cascading past her shoulders were being smoothed by her mother's shaking hands as silent tears dripped down her face.

I held her free hand and spoke quietly in her mind. "Hey, Rose." I used the nickname I'd plucked from her father's mind to make her more comfortable. "I'm here to help you; it's going to be okay." I could feel her unease at my words intruding her thoughts.

"Who are you?" she mumbled back. Good question. I could tumble into an existential crisis right now if I thought too deeply about that question, so I stick to a standard reply. "I'm a friend. I came to take you to a better place."

"Y..you mean... It's time for me to go?"

I nodded gravely. Suddenly, the heart monitor wired to her chest started going wild and I knew it was time. I had to get her out before the nurses got here.

"Come, Rose." I tugged on her hand and her feathery soul slipped out easily. She turned to me with a bewildered look on her face. "How...how did you do that?"

"Well, it's kind of my job," I shrugged.

She nodded, and we both turned our attention to the flurry of activity stirring in the room. The nurses and doctors were there, and her parents were ushered out. Her mom let out an agonized wail, making Rose wince.

"Mom..." she whispered, then turned to me, "Can I please say goodbye?"

I smiled sadly. "You can try." I hope I didn't seem too optimistic. Everyone wanted to say goodbye, after, but it never worked. It was just too late.

She nodded, letting go of my hand, and made her way through the people, trying very hard not to look at her body on the bed, jerking as the defibrillator shocked her dead heart.

I watched as she reached her parents who were now standing outside the ICU, looking in through the big glass pane. They were cuddled together as her father held her weeping mother, worry lines decorating his weary face. She stood in front of them and reached her arms out tentatively, wrapping them around both her parents in a last cuddle. They stood like that for a minute, her parents painfully unaware as Rose held them, a whispery white soul, visible to none but me.

Her words were so quiet I barely heard them. "Mom, remember that time I was six, and I fell off my first bicycle? It was only my second day without training wheels and I was so mad at you for letting go of the bike."

She looked up at her mom's face earnestly, "I was crying and throwing a perfect tantrum, my flailing arms hitting you in the face. You picked me up, whispering a million 'I'm sorry' s. You carried me home and cleaned me then held me tight until I stopped crying."

Her mom continued to cry, silently now, tears dripping down her cheeks, as if she could hear her daughter. "I remember that day so well. I remember thinking, why is she kissing me? I hate her! She shouldn't have let me go! I was amazed, Mom. I was amazed by how much you loved me and continued to love me, day in and day out. I couldn't count on the sun shining every day, but I could count on your warmth lulling me to sleep every night.

"And Dad," she looked towards him, eyes sparkling so bright it made me wish with all my heart he would hear her, "I'll always remember the hugs you gave, every day after work, even if you were really tired. You were always the one I ran to when life was too hard, and you were always there, arms wide open, no matter how old I was." She rested her head on his shoulder, "Thank you, daddy."

I could see her chest heave in a final sigh as she released her arms and stepped back. She smiled wiping her tear-stained cheeks and spoke quietly, "I love you both."

Her parents' faces jerked up. Confusion passed over their features as they looked at each other. Rose looked at me. I shook my head, my jaw falling open slightly. Did they just hear her?

Her mom was the first to break the silence, barely stringing the words together, "Was that...?"

Her dad nodded earnestly, "Yes, yes I believe it was!"

Her mom let out a joyous cry. "Oh honey, we love you too. We always will." That was all she got to say before she broke down in her husband's arms. He looked up to the sky as he held her wife, "You can rest now, Rose. We'll be okay, I promise."

I didn't realize I was crying until warm, salty liquid touched my lips. A red light on my watch told me we were pushing time. "Come on, kiddo."

Rose smiled and walked over to me. "Thank you for letting me do that," she said as she took my hand.

I shook my head. I held her hands and nudged her towards the sky, allowing her soul to rise to the planes above. I smiled.

"Thank you for making me see."