“‘Is it ok if I come John?’ Arieona asked.
‘You can come, but she’s in a coma like state so she’s not going to wake up. Just want you to know,’ I responded.
It was around midnight.
A few days before Michelle passed away.
I was tired.
And lonely.
I was devastated.
And depleted.
After waiting awhile, Arieona finally arrived.
I greeted her at the front door of the hospice facility which had become like a second home.
‘She won’t wake up. But they say if you talk to her she can hear you,’ I informed Arieona as I took my seat in the lounger next to Michelle’s bed.
As the woman who was once like a sister to Michelle gently climbed into the bed, the tears began to flow.
For her.
And yes.
For me.
It had been nearly a decade since they had seen each other.
Arieona began to gently caress Michelle’s face.
I cringed.
I always cringed whenever anyone would touch her.
She was finally comfortable and I didn’t want her to be disturbed or woken.
‘It’s you. You’re here,’ Michelle said as she slowly came to.
It had been days since she awoke or spoke.
‘I’m here.’
They hugged so tight.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Michelle said.
‘I missed you too,’ Arieona responded.
‘Are you coming to the wedding? You have to come. My dress is so beautiful. I look like a princess in it,’ Michelle proclaimed.
Looking at me through the tears, I knew that Arieona’s glare in my direction was a request for direction.
I nodded gently as I wiped the falling tears off of my ever thinning face.
‘I’m coming Michelle. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’”
This story documents John’s ongoing grief journey. Read more from John’s journey here:
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