A Parting Gift

“Beep... Beep... Beep...” Slow and measured, the green line would peak, “Beep” then dip and level. A young man watched his mother's face, seeing her cheekbone cut a drawn image of her normally smiling and round face. That was one of the first things to go. He ran his eyes down her arm, to her hand that used to play guitar, but now it lacked the strength. He remembered her playing songs with him, showing him what she knew, telling him stories of how she and his Dad had met all those years ago.
He had to look away from her. The pain was more severe than when he had broken his wrist.

	 He  looked to his big brother, his hero and role model, and watched the tears stream down his face. The sorrow was a beautiful blue, to the crimson hue of his father's loss and quiet anger. His father wasn't mad at them, and especially not their mother. His father was mad at God. His father was mad that she was going to die first, because he felt like it should be him. The young man had to turn his gaze away, his father deserved the right to keep those thoughts hidden.

	His sister was trying to be strong, for it was what their mother had taught them all. But the young man knew it was his sister who hurt more than he or his brother, for she and their mother had finally started getting close again. The young man also knew that his sister had the greatest reason to be strong, two little girls who where about to lose their grandma.

	He closed his eyes, for every sight was more painful and humbling than the last. But even in darkness, he couldn't escape what was at hand. His mind flashed to the first time his mother had cancer, and the images of his hair in the mirror as he tried to shave it all off. He had thought that it would help her heal. He remembered in church, when he saw his dad cry for the first time he could remember, and the gravity was made real. But then he recalled something his mom had taught him. She had taught him, his older brother and sister, how important it was to love your family. She taught them how to keep your chin high, your feet on the ground, and how to truly love music.

“Now there is a young cowboy, who lives on the range.” Drifted into the air from a small blue and silver stereo his older sis had in her lap. It was the start of a song that everyone in the room had engraved in their hearts because of the woman laying in the hospital bed.
“His horse and his cattle are his only companions” She had sang it to his siblings and him whenever they where sick. It was like her anthem for their family, and it bolstered him in this time.
“He works in the Saddle, and he sleeps in the canyon,” When his brother got married, he played this song for the Mother of the Groom's dance, and his mom wept happy tears. The young man clung to the memory of his mom showing him how to play the chords. His sister recalled her and her mom singing it together and having silly arguments about the harmony.

	The young man felt a calm fall about his mother as she lay dying in the bed. On instinct he placed his hand on hers, a gesture that the room followed. Then, as he, his father, his sister, his brother, and his brother's wife had their hands on the woman in the bed's, they each took a turn to say one last thing,

“I love you mom, and I'll make you proud.” Said the young man, choking back a tear.
“I love you mom, and I'll raise the girls to stand up for themselves just like you.” His sister spoke, nearly choking on the words.
“I love you mom, I'll never stop making music for you.” The older brother cried softly.
“I love you Deby, you treated me like family, and I am so lucky to have been in yours.” His sister-in-law spoke with true pride and happiness to be in their family.
“I love you sugar. You where the light of my life, and the music in me. I'll meet you up there before you know it.” Their father stated with tightness in his voice, before he finally gave into the crying.

“Beep...”






“Beep...”










“Beep...”
	The machine slowed and let out one long tone, signaling the nurse to turn it off and check the time. As they all stood around the woman's body, the young man asked them to all join hands. He didn't remember much of the practice, but it was important to his mother. So he lead them in a prayer for her. He and his kin prayed for happiness and joy on the other side, and that she wouldn't hurt anymore. And regardless of the fact not all of them believed, they felt better.

	With a warm calm, and a loving strength, they went to the hospital parking lot and each lit a cigarette. They talked about the amazing things their mother had done, and the happy times together. They talked about how strong headed she was, and how it had been her determination that kept the breast cancer at bay for a decade.

	Then, as they hugged each other and started to go home, the young man looked to the sky. He felt his mom watching over him, and filling him with the power to take a step forward. As he did, he knew that he could be a man to make her proud. That he had been taught everything he needed to know to be worthwhile. At 22 years old, his mother's passing gave him the fire and the determination to make her proud, and with it he got his first job.