Since I was asked to add a bit more to my recent short story, I’m doing so here.
The original story is found on the tabs at the top of this blog.
If Rose could live her life over again, there were many things she would do differently. Living again was not an option. Rose was surprised at how easy it was to die. Dying wasn’t hard. It was the living that had been hard.
Life slowly left her body. She no longer had the energy to keep her eyes open but she knew what was going on in the room around her. She could hear the ticking of the clock and her sons breathing punctuated by the occasional heavy sigh. She felt for her sons. This was much harder on them than it was on her.
Around 9 p.m. the dog woke from her usual evening slumber and danced and scratched at the door. She had to go outside. She can never be expected to go alone. She requires the presence of the “potty coach.” At first, this need irritated me. No creature should need a potty coach.
In time, I gave in to the coaching. I realized that for what ever reason, that is what my dog needs and I can give it to her. It’s not hard really. In the act of encouragement, I find a certain comfort and peace but this was only found under layers of resistance. I had to stop thinking about what “should” happen and simply accept what was happening. This last sentence is easy to write but very difficult to live.