Time waits for no one

Without hesitation, the Tarot Practitioner’s thumb pressed the disconnect button of the call. Her mother dialed her phone once again, asking her to come to their home as the old woman felt that she’s at the point of death, lying in her bed and her disease slowly creeping on her skin until it consumes her and her final breath. The old woman was asking for forgiveness for every wrong thing she had done.

Please come home was all the Tarot Practitioner ever heard before ending the call.

Still, the Tarot Practitioner saw no reason to come to her mother. An exasperated sigh came from her mouth. Her mother was in her late seventies, and her being in her 40s. The relationship of the Tarot Practitioner with her mother is still outwardly uncomfortable and bitter, and she chose not to see the old woman and leave her be and whatever it is that comes.

         The Tarot Practitioner walked along the park, her phone already inside her pocket and was completely shut off to prevent her mother from calling her further.

In her heart was either resentment or pride. Or maybe both. The long distant past with her mother was nothing but unjust treatment and the Tarot Practitioner could still remember how neglectful her mother was, and that caused their relationship to become difficult and ugly. For over 20 years, the Tarot Practitioner lived away from her mother.

         The Tarot Practitioner walked along the park of Almont. Gold and reds were the colors of the trees, colors that are bold and homely and an indication of the autumn season. She let her heart soak in the autumn season’s earthly hues. The falling leaves come down and ride the waves of air with grace. They were like confetti, yet the dry ones, lacking moisture and filled with cracks in its leaf.

There was this unfathomable joy of stepping in brittle leaves, her boots smashing every leaf on her path and with every crunch it satisfies her. The Park was quiet as a graveyard, the Tarot Practitioner was sure she was the only one there. And she loved the peace.

She came across the known and the one and only statue in the park, the statue of the Grim Reaper.

Now it made sense to her. As a Tarot card reader, she loves to interpret things. In one of the tarot cards, there was a card called death, having the Grim Reaper as the front image.

The statue of the Grim Reaper reminded her of the dead autumn leaves. The dry and lifeless leaves. Both the Grim Reaper and the autumn leaves represent death, or an end.

The Tarot Practitioner picked up one leaf from the ground, and as she turned the leaf around, she jolted in surprised. There was an outline of a scythe on the leaf.

Who drew this? She thought.

Maybe somebody with an artistic talent drew this on the leaf, and left it behind like that. But she heard the leaves on the ground crunch behind her and without a second thought she knew someone was behind her.

Turning around, the Tarot Practitioner dropped the leaf from her hand and backed away with a fearful eye. She felt her body turn cold. It stood there. Its dark cloak created a strong form. She couldn’t see its face as shadows of the cloak’s hood consumed its view. A six feet scythe clutched at its hand. But as her eyes land on the figure’s hand, it was no hand of a human. Its hand and fingers were real, bony and loose-jointed. The Tarot Practitioner felt her stomach clenching at the thought.

Her lips tightened before she spoke, “I’m not here to entertain pranksters young man, whoever you are.”

It didn’t move nor respond. The fairly cold breeze stung her skin. The Tarot Practitioner didn’t like the silence coming from the figure that stood a few distance in front of her.

A sudden realization penetrated through her. Her head looked back and the statue was no longer there.

The Grim Reaper

Now everything became more conflicting. “This is a joke…” Her feet backing away once more.

“No please. Please don’t take me yet. I still have a life left to live. I can’t go just yet.” The Tarot Practitioner’s voice broke.

“I am not here to take you.” Its deep and dreadfully low voice echoed. Everything around her felt a lot more unusual cold. Her heartbeat grew rapidly steady.

“Living souls still could not fathom the importance of time and the meaning of death itself. Do not fear me, for I am here not to take you, but to make you grasp the value of time itself.”

The Tarot Practitioner felt a ripple of confusion at that moment. The words refusing to come out of her mouth.

“I am feared by the living souls in this world. I am neither evil nor good. I am an entity of the manifestation of death itself. Solely I am a force of nature and order. Soon I will be on my way to take your mother. I speak here in thought of the right to apprise you to go and see her before her end.”

In that moment the Tarot Practitioner sunk and her heart shattered. Her merry blue eyes now covered with unwanted tears. The face of her mother flashed in her mind. Every bit of image of her mother’s smile, the way her face bears the wrinkles of laughter lines. Even with her heart’s resentment towards her mother, the Tarot Practitioner couldn’t handle the idea of her being gone forever.”

“No… I… W-what do you…” The Tarot practitioner stuttered under her breath.

“Many living souls have not come to understand that Death makes life and time meaningful. If you have forever, the moments, the relationships and everything in this world would not matter. Many living souls do not understand that time is a meaningful gift. Your mother will be taken by me to walk her to the afterlife for she will meet her end. I am here to speak to make you understand the value of time. I see that your heart is filled with hate. Yet you must see your mother because this is the last time it will ever be.”

The Tarot Practitioner stood frozen. Her heart has been used to the pride. She hated her mother.

“Pride will only make you regret. Die to self.”

Her gaze flew up to the Grim Reaper.

“Die to self.” It repeated. “Go to your mother. One day, you and I will meet again.”

Once the Tarot Practitioner blinked, the Grim Reaper was gone. She drew a deep breath. She realized that time is like an hourglass, the sand will continually slip through your fingers. The Grim Reaper represented Death, and death is not something to be afraid of. It is death that made every moment meaningful.

Her hand wiped the remaining tears in her eyes. Was she hallucinating? Was that a dream? Did the Grim Reaper really appeared and speak to her? It didn’t matter anymore. All she thought about now is her mother.

The Tarot Practitioner walked and left the park to go and see her mother for the very last time.