Last breath

Jenny, how did that last breath go?

The one last gasp that you took, with a sigh of resign before you gave all life away?

Did you give it away all too willingly to find peace and comfort at last, after all you had endured nearly 7 long months of suffering?

Or did you hold on to make it last so you can spend a moment longer with us, your most loved ones?

And feel my hand in yours, one last time, as I sat beside you watching your light fade away,

And with your children by your side, the source of your strength and reasons to live.

Was it painful? Or was it relieving that this one will be the last?

The last of countless breaths you had taken from the time you came to being some 56 years ago?

And in the quiet early morning hours in the hospital, where we breathed in tandem in your final few hours, you labouring away with every gasp, and me in meditative silence, tearful in knowing that our final parting may well be near, could you sense too that this would be the last goodbye?

Or were you too exhausted in your very final moment - to hear our pleading for you to hang on and not leave - the voices of your children and your beloved husband, whom you are all too familiar with, crying as the world caved in around us.  Could your enfeebled senses perceive this outpouring of sorrow around you or did they sound like  noisy background chatter?

I really wish I knew how you had felt then.

Your eyes could barely open, too weakened to make sense of whatever light is flickering in.

You lie so still, saved for your heaving and struggle for each laboured gasp for air. You almost appeared to be deep in sleep, which would be my wish for you if sleep could lighten your suffering and spare you the mental anguish of this dreadful experience. Is it not a blessing, when the time comes, for us to also pass on in sleep?

I could see you were still fighting to stay on, summoning every last ounce of your waning strength, every sinew to take in one more breath to keep your body going. For a little longer.

Until that moment came. You surrendered and took your final breath.

That scene will be the single most painful memory in my life - to see you bowing out, exiting this world, much as in spirit you want to stay on. It will be a moment that will stay on in my mind, not because I want to remember you this way. That it wrenches my heart so badly is plainly because of the bond we have built together. Because on that day and that moment when that last breath was taken, I would have lost you. And all I would be left with, is the bond. And timeless memories of the life we have share together

It is just one moment in time.  But it will be relived through many times for the rest of my life.  And each time, Jen I would wish I know, how it went for you.