Last Day

“What do you remember last William?”
The woman was bright in mind and in vision, the natural white coat contrasted with the sterile greens and the yellowy hues of the neon track lighting above. The light bouncing off the full length wall mirror opened the room bigger to what it really was.
“Well, I remember you coming round the corner dear.” The woman in the coat took notes, the way her ring finger nudged her glasses back up the edge of her nose reminded William of his wife. But nothing else did. Nothing else does.
“Or do you want to know what I remember?” The wrinkles on William’s forehead were innumerable as he strained the last word. William’s voice was strained and tired, as much so as his body, which was into the later years of life now, a liver spot for each year lived. The woman wasn’t paid to hear this information, she had other people to see, but William had been here for some time now, and surely the other work could wait for a quick 5 minute chat couldn’t it?
“What do you remember William?”
“Well”
William sighed; he folded his arms onto his lap, tangling the wires connected into the prominent veins on the back of his hands. “I remember staring into my beloved’s eyes unblinking and staring, and her returning my stare unblinking also. Of course I remember you turning the corner, seeing your face and shaking your hand. See, I remember your face, but I long to remember hers. I still get that feeling which makes my soul catch fire and an overwhelming feeling of bliss when I remember her eyes. All I remember are her eyes.
“Do you remember the last time you were together?”
“Oh of course I do dear, I can hear her voice now as well, the last thing I remember about her was clutching her hand on her bed, and she was so scared. She was such a clever, optimistic woman, she radiated joy, but she was so scared to let go.” William unfolded his arms and picked up the glass of juice next to his seat, she saw that it required a lot of strength for him to do, and she helped it to his lips.
“Was that when,” she coughed politely, “When she died, passed away, I mean?”
“We oughtn’t to be scared of death, just as we aren’t scared about proclaiming our love. The very fact you would be anxious about asking me that says a lot, we live our lives in fear of sex and death, and yet these things are so central to our being. It’s a natural feeling however, fear, and it’s no surprise to hear that I was scared when my beloved exhaled her last breath, the warmness of which I remember feeling in my ear, so different from her then slowly cooling face. She was still radiating joy when she passed.” The woman could see William’s eyes glazing over and looking into the distance, she felt there was not much longer left. I think William knew it too.
She checked his vitals, taking his readings from the ECG and BP monitor, all standard procedure, marked it down on the clipboard at the end of his bed, of which William was now sat. He was still active and able to move, but it took a lot of strength for him to do so, shown by the beads of sweat on his brow and clinging to the last strands of his hair. His fingers, still thick, unusually for a man of his age, combed through the hairs on the sides of his head, took out a pink handkerchief from his sleeve, wiped his brow and lip and folded it away neatly again. His only possession, the others were in another room. He’d refused a dinner, just a glass of juice, of which was half full.
“Why can’t you remember her face, William?”
“I suppose it could just be I repressing the memories which sadden me, although I cannot understand why her face would sadden me. Her eyes are always in my mind although.” Again his eyes wandered off, now looking into the mirror, the woman’s eyes follow towards the mirror, and she gently smiles at him as she catches his gaze.
“Why have you stayed here with me?”
The woman wasn’t ready for this question, and she didn’t totally know the answer, “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t scared William.” Again, he looks into the mirror, this time he faintly smiles, with the last of the energy he has.
“I’m not scared, I’m ready” He tried to reach for the half full glass of juice, and again the woman helped him bring it up to his lips. “Have you ever heard about the story of the woman who went to the Buddha in great anguish? She was carrying her deceased child in her arms and she asked the Buddha to revive the child. The Buddha said ‘Bring me a mustard seed from any house where no-one has ever died, and I will fulfil your wish.’ The woman attempted to search from such a house but all such attempts were in vain, as no such house existed, but in the end, what she did find was the universality of death.”
Two men in uniforms come in and stand either side of the room. The woman, stands, and walks towards the bed, nods at the mirror, and at the men and the audience the other side of it. One of the men takes out a needle and prepares it. William looks over at the woman, “Everybody’s scared, everybody grieves, and everybody dies.”
The other man asks William for any final words, “I have said all I need to say, I just wish to see her face again.” The first man injects into the IV, William’s eyes connect with the woman’s, they glaze over, and again he looks into the far distance.