The Last Kiss

        Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The sounds of seconds passing on the clock echoed in her head as Grace sat on the hard, fake leather chair and gently rubber her mother’s hand. The constant beeping and buzzing of alarms and machines had become a blur, back ground noise like constant chatter in a crowded bar. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she was scared to even close her eyes long enough to blink. Grace couldn’t imagine life without her mother. Every memory she had, and even the things she couldn’t remember, included her mom, her best friend, her biggest cheerleader, and the first one to honestly tell her when she had screwed up. There wasn’t anyone she had ever met that was as real as her mom.

               Pictures from the day she was born depicted just how strong her mother was. Looking at the pictures of a beautiful, vibrant woman, a smile spread ear to ear as she hugged a little yellow bundle close to her chest, not a single hair out of place, no evidence of the eight hours of pushing and screaming and pain that had occurred just five minutes prior. Not a single drop of sweat left soaking her forehead, only pure joy radiating from her face as she squeezed her baby girl and looked at her with complete adoration and pride. The look never left her mother’s face when Grace was in her presence. Pictures showing her learning to walk, smashing the cake on her first birthday, and opening presents on her first Christmas, all with her mother in the background cloaked in an angelic glow.

               Then the memories, she could remember. Her first day of school. Walking into the huge, brick building, gripping her mom’s leg as they stood in the doorway of what her classroom. Staring at the tall lady her mom called Ms. Long, her first teacher. At that first introduction the woman lacked the warm familiarity that would soon come, as well as the comfort in which Grace would dash from her mother’s presence to join this lady and the other kids who sat on the storybook carpet chattering with excitement. Today was filled with dread, Grace had never spent a day away from the safety her mother’s presence provided. Grace grimaced thinking about this memory, the same knot in her stomach tightening now as she momentarily allowed the thought of her mother passing to creep into head.  But just as quickly as a butterfly dashes away when it lands on your hand, she pushed the ugly thoughts to the side, skipping to the next memory.

               There Grace stood on stage in her pink ballroom dress, a silver wand in her hand, and a crown upon her head. It was the day of her fourth-grade play, The Wizard of Oz, and there was her mom in the front row, beaming smile, camera raised capturing every second as Grace danced, twirled, and sang. The same pride she carried every time Grace performed, whether it be in the choir, at a dance recital, or with the high school drama club. She was definitely Grace’s number one fan.

               Her mom never missed an opportunity to make Grace feel like a princess. Dress shopping for every major event in her life was a huge ordeal; snowball, prom, her college sorority formal, her wedding. Early in the morning they would start out with breakfast at IHOP, Grace’s favorite, then head to numerous dress shops until they found the absolute perfect dress for the occasion. Then off to find shoes, earrings, a necklace, and hair accents to match. Then on the day of the event, there was the hair appointment and manicure. Grace’s mom went to no limits to make each of these days a dream come true.

               It wasn’t long after the wedding that Grace’s own daughter came along. Her mom doted upon her granddaughter in the same fashion, constantly pouring love into the two girls. When Grace’s job uprooted them for a corporate move, she was devastated. Without hesitation, her mom listed her house and bought a new home close to Grace so that the family would never be separated. Until now, the ugly thoughts crept back into her head and a single tear escaped her eye, stinging her cheek.

               Four months early the doctor had delivered the devastating blow. The ugly “C” word, the one that even to this moment Grace couldn’t bring herself to say. The monstrous, ravenous mass growing in her chest that was robbing her mother of comfort and would eventually steal her last breath. The doctor was hopeful about treatment, but the only changes they witnessed were a balding head where flowing golden locks once rested and huge arm bruises that started as pale pink spots, then turned purple, then a deep black, before taking on a greenish hue. The raised mattress of the hospital bed now cradled her frail body, thin from malnutrition.  The chemicals meant to battle the cancer cells destroyed the good, leaving behind a shell of the woman her mother once was. The only thing that remained constant over the months was her angelic glow and the pride that spread on her face every time she looked at Grace.

               Grace stood and looked down upon her mother. She took a dab of lotion and gently rubbed it on her face to ease the discomfort of the oxygen tubes protruding from her nose, draped across her face, and hanging from her ears.  The feelings of wanting to tell her mom it was okay to let go and the selfish desire to always have her mom at her side battled in her head. Either way the results would be devastating.

               Grace’s mom opened her eyes and a small smile formed as she looked at her daughter. Although she was too weak to respond, Grace gently spoke to her mom. “Well mom, you proved them wrong, it’s New Year’s Eve and here we are getting ready to see another year. Would you like to watch the ball drop?” she asked as she turned on the tv hanging in the corner. Dolly Parton and Miley Cyrus filled the screen, decked out in glittery black fedoras and holding festive party blowers amongst thousands of party goers lining the streets of Miami.  “Ten, nine, eight….” 

Grace’s mom closed her eyes. Still holding her fragile hand Grace bent over, a lump expanding in her throat as she whispered in her mother’s ear. “Mom, I love you so very much. I know you’ll always be with me.” 

               “Four, three, two…” As the clock struck midnight Grace’s lips met her mother’s cheek with a soft kiss. A soft peace filled the room as her mom inhaled one last time.