She Died In My Arms

She died in my arms.  I put her back down on the pillow and Angela said with imploring eyes, “Is that it?”

Melinda stood stunned behind me, as she was the first to realise that Carmen had left.

Carmen had said about a month ago.  “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.”  I couldn’t reply.  I couldn’t acknowledge the inevitable.  I didn’t want her to think I had given up or that it was OK for her to give up.  I still wanted whatever time we had left no matter how sick she got.  It was selfish but I knew she would go when she was ready.  She was always very attune to her body.  The only real regret she had over the cancer was that she even bothered to have the one chemotherapy.  While she tolerated it quite well, it was apparent that there was no improvement.  In fact, I wondered if the chemo from the outset was primarily palliative.  If you had no faith in its healing power there was little use in getting sick and loosing your hair.

I gave her one last kiss and said, “Good-bye Hon.”