Oh how I hate the flashbacks. Most common at night, either in that twilight time before sleep takes hold, or in the early hours of the morning when sleep has abandoned me. Sometimes even during the day, on the train,walking along the street,in the playground,while folding laundry....
Usually she's lying on that table, doctors all around. She's trying to push the tubes out of her throat with her tongue, and trying to open her eyes, then she's given more morphine.
I said before that she never opened her eyes, but she did try. I think I saw a glint of pale blue.Then the morphine shut them tight.
I wonder if she could see? There were cartoon characters on the ceiling,but her newborn vision would have only been programmed to see from Mothers breast to Mother's face.She never saw my face.
I hope she knew I was there, holding her hand,stroking her cheek.
No comments:
Post a Comment