"My Last Glimpse of Dawn", Robin Loving [ebook reader browser .TXT] 📗

prickle of self-loathing now, as I remember staring at her swollen and bruised body. I remember stifling one of those primeval cries...the cry that is meant to empty a soul of total anguish. I remember how I could have given her a place to go, but because of my selfish nature...she ended up here, instead.  Even 30 years later...I remember how it felt when all those emotions welled up from a depth of fear and sorrow I didn’t know existed at that time. I was suddenly hit by all the memories of her generous spirit. A spirit that would, never have let me dangle on the other end of the phone, with an urgency in my voice. Dawn had always been there for me when I needed her. She had mothered me, babied me, spoiled me…took me to places I shouldn’t have gone, but always made sure I was safe. She offered me a home, even when it was nothing but a couch in someone else’s house. Dawn had never let me down. Here was my Dawn, all bloodied and swollen…broken and bruised – machines were breathing for her and her chest was rising and sinking as though she were still, really, alive. Smudges of old mascara were mingled with tear drops that had congealed around her eyes. Bloody bandages had slipped, and the nubble of a freshly-shaven head told me she had had surgery at least a day before. She had been declared brain-dead, but we didn’t want to hear that. She would feel the combined power of her sister’s love and come back to life. We took turns trying to talk to her. We found a clean cloth, and tried to clean-up the mess around her eyes. The thickness of her bruised neck was what horrified me the most…it was the width of her head. Edema had set-in. I remember thinking Dawn needed to remain asleep…she couldn’t see herself like this.

Dawn didn’t wake-up, despite the powerful prayers, and the tears of love that fell on her sterile sheets and floated through the sterile space of her curtained cubby. Hours passed and the time had come to leave. With a handful of empty little promises that we’d be back ‘tomorrow’…the three of us slowly got up. Heads bent low in a growing knowledge that this would be the last time we ever saw Dawn, we began to shuffle out of the room. I think I felt a soft voice call out to me as we were leaving...so I lagged behind to leave one last little kiss on Dawn’s forehead. By now I had grown accustomed to her appearance, and she no longer appeared to me, the grotesque vision of the monster I had first laid eyes upon. I knew the real Dawn was somewhere outside this empty casement, who’s heaving chest continued to rise…deflate…rise….deflate. The ‘real’ Dawn was somewhere else, having fun. Dancing somewhere without her gangly side-kick..

An urge came over me to peek under the bottom corner of her blanket. I found her little foot lying there. My heart filled with a new serge of anguish, when I noticed her toe-nail polish was chipped. My last glimpse of Dawn, revealed that she was as mortal as the rest of us. 

Imprint

Text: copyright 2009 Robin LovingPicture is property of Author
Images: Robin Loving
Editing: Robin Loving
Publication Date: 12-28-2009

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
Black Swan skims atop her pond of adoration. Pecked and shunned by lesser fowl, she drowns in desperation.