It had been a restless night. Now as light streamed through the blinds and on to her face, for a moment she forgot where she was and how unwell she felt.
Aware now she was again in a hospital bed. Again, waiting for relief, waiting for some hope to visit her mind and give her peace.
She stirred further and pulling herself up so she could look out the window. See a world busy going about its day. She felt herself slump back into the pillows, as a feeling of exhaustion already visited her.
Light now filled the room, and an attending nurse came into the room with a cheerful greeting, moving across the room to close the blinds. She asked if they could be kept open a little so she could see out, see life and truthfully, to have something that might distract her from her thoughts.
Her phone rang. It was the early morning call. Her daughter's young voice, chirpy and cheerfully saying hello. The young voice gleefully and excitedly describing what her day would be. Of her breakfast, of the extra eggs the Isa Brown chicken had laid and of how she was looking forward to her day in Kindy.
She struggled to have the strength to hold the phone, but so desperately wanted to hear her daughters voice. A life line to a reality she wished she could share, but was so distant from her at this time.
The phone at the other end was handed to him, and he felt that the report of the coming day was as much as could be said. He knew already she was tired, even so early in the morning. He wished he could reach down the phone, to break the distance and dissolve the sadness he was wearing.
But with his words and his voice, for her was all that was needed to make things melt away. She listened, not hearing the content just the sounds.
Then it was time for them to go.
She was left, alone in the room. The bright sun streaming in, the reflections of the colourful world outside painting the room. And she cried.
(Copyright 2021 Kevin Palmer, all rights reserved)