Voices

The girl sat slumped in a wooden rocker, her arms flung over the sides. She had to sit and wait for the doctor to come to her house to check on her mother. The girl knew her mother was dying. She didn't think about it. She wished it away.

The woman was lying in her bed. It wasn't really her bed but a hard, mean hospital bed. She longed for her own bed--her husband beside her. She longed for life. She knew she was dying. She wished it away.

The girl was angry that she had to wait for the doctor out in the front room. Her father was giving her mother a priesthood blessing with another man. She wanted to be in there too but she was told to wait out for the doctor. Something in her father's eyes made her swallow the words of protest before they escaped her lips. I'll wait here, she said.

The woman was cold. She was always cold. She was receiving another blessing. A blessing offering comfort. Comfort when she longed for healing. The woman knew there would be no healing.

The spirit was strong and good but the body was flawed and tired.

The girl could hear the muffled voices in her mother's room and the hum of the window air conditioner. She picked at the afghan on the chair and stared outside.

The woman stared out the window. She wished her daughter was there. In the midst of the pain, their friendship was growing.

"Can you let go?" The Spirit spoke clearly to her soul.

The girl looked upward. She trembled inside. "No!" Her spirit shouted back. "No, I can't be without her. She's my friend and I've only just realized it. There's so much more I need. No!"

The woman signed. This wasn't her plan. There was so much more to teach this child. "She's not ready," the woman said silently.

It was quiet. The girl's heart burned inside her. She heard the plain question again.

The woman begged her maker, "They still need me here." She heard the plain question again.

She closed her eyes and saw in an instant:

tissue paper easter bonnets
homemade pudding pops
lying on the green grass
driving on the highway
eyes full of love and pride
protection from storms
talking on the counter
laughter.

"No, I can't." She pleaded.

The girl saw the pain her mother endured. The horribly scarred body gasping for breath. She saw the words--aching sorrow horrible smiling enduring. Tears streamed down the girls face. She knew.

The woman saw growing and pain, graduations and temples, husbands and children. Happiness. She knew.

She's given enough, the girl thought.

I've given enough, the woman knew.

"Can you let her go? It's almost time." The voice again.

Tears streamed down from her eyes. The woman breathed out the word--yes.
Tears dripped onto her lap. The girl hissed out the word--yes.

She felt warmth and light.

She would make it.