Sentimental Journey
“A basic human instinct? All she knew was that her son was in the hospital room.
“George?” Odd that her voice sounded like someone else’s. They had taken the breathing tube from her mouth that very morning. Deep inside her throat it burned when she tried to make a sound; her words came out charred around the edges.
“I’m here, Mother.”
A metal chair scraped across the floor; then she felt the touch of his hand on her arm, the one with the tube stuck into her vein. In her mind’s eye she could see ...her son’s hands: the flat nails, the tanned skin, the strength in them.
Almost a quarter of a century ago in the bedroom at Keighley, after hours and hours of labor during which she thought she was going to die, she looked down at her newborn son for the very first time, counted his fingers and toes, and saw a small version of his father.
“I knew it was you. You were in the doorway only a few moments ago. It wasn’t the first time. Weren’t you here before? Yesterday? Last night?”MoreLess
“George?” Odd that her voice sounded like someone else’s. They had taken the breathing tube from her mouth that very morning. Deep inside her throat it burned when she tried to make a sound; her words came out charred around the edges.
“I’m here, Mother.”
A metal chair scraped across the floor; then she felt the touch of his hand on her arm, the one with the tube stuck into her vein. In her mind’s eye she could see ...her son’s hands: the flat nails, the tanned skin, the strength in them.
Almost a quarter of a century ago in the bedroom at Keighley, after hours and hours of labor during which she thought she was going to die, she looked down at her newborn son for the very first time, counted his fingers and toes, and saw a small version of his father.
“I knew it was you. You were in the doorway only a few moments ago. It wasn’t the first time. Weren’t you here before? Yesterday? Last night?”MoreLess
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