Only in My Dreams

The hallway is long and dark. My footsteps echo as I walk to the end and turn right. For some reason that somehow makes sense, though I can’t remember why, there are two guards outside her door. The tall one nods almost imperceptibly at me as I turn the corner. I’m just going to walk by today, too exhausted to face the pain. She’s been in a coma for several days. She’s in her last hours now. The end is near; I feel it in my heart, and the ache is unbearable.


But as I am passing her room, I hear my name.


“Deb!”


Though the voice is weak and raspy, I know instantly that it’s hers, and I am at her bedside in a heartbeat. She is sitting straight up—her thin, frail arms outstretched. Eyes that were once grey-blue are now a light, pale blue, but unseeing and ethereal. She knows I’m there by her side, and she smiles. For a fleeting moment, hope rises up within me. Could this be the miracle we have all been desperately praying for?


“I knew you’d come to say goodbye.”


My heart sinks with the realization that the miracle wasn’t going to come.

“I can’t,” I say, desperately trying to hold back the tears so she won’t know.

“It’s almost time. I don't want to leave without saying goodbye.”

Panic rises up inside me. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“We’ll be together again soon. But Dad is waiting for me now.”

Her voice is getting weaker now. I can barely make out what she’s saying. I know she’s leaving. It’s very, very close now.


An overwhelming sadness washes over me. . .

The crushing feeling stays with me as I wake up. She’s really gone.

And I miss her terribly.