"Don't Cry, February 26, 2007.
"Don't cry", she repeatedly told herself as she chewed her bottom lip. She stared at her mom's blue lips and pale cheeks. She looks like a marble statue. No blemishes, no wrinkles, just the cold, hard figure laying in bed, once warmed. The same bed she gave life in, she had been given death in.
"She's too young, it's not fair" she remembered her grandmother saying the night before. Did she know this was going to happen? Did she know her daughter was going to turn into stone?
"It's not fair" she thought. "She's my mom... What do I do now?"
She rests her head on her mother's chest like she's done so many times before.
"It's quiet."
She recalls the old rhythmic pounding of her mother's heart. The humming she would create in a lullaby form would sweep her out of her consciousness and into dreamland. She could almost feel her mom's hand stroke her head, encouraging sleep.
Now it's just lonely.
It's just quiet.
It's just cold.
"Don't cry" she told herself again as she keeps back her swelling tears.
"Mom wouldn't want me to cry."
