Sunday in Church , I prayed for an end to my sister’s suffering. The cancer and the treatments had ravaged her body. She was afraid to die and very sad. I could feel the passing would be soon.
I was already very sad as it was it was the anniversary of my oldest son’s death.
I paced from room to room. I paced around the church.
I prayed. At bedtime waves of
anxiety overwhelmed me as I lay on my bed in a fetal position.
Dreams of my parents who had gone before and my long lost son chased me through corridors of another dimension.
I woke up with a start at 3:32 for water or to relive myself.
I shuddered remembering my dreams. I prayed again for comfort for my little sister before collapsing back into fitful sleep.
When daylight filtered through the moon window above my bed, I dared look at the phone on the nightstand.
The call had come, muffled by the sound of artificial waves that rock me to sleep each night
The call I’d dreaded and expected.
My little sister was no longer wracked with pain.
Her smile returned-accompanied by Angel wings.
© Nancilynn Saylor June 2018