My Last Birthday: I Died While Mommy Said She Was Done With Me Chapter 07
The little living room felt even more crowded now.
A cold coffin took up most of the space in the middle of the room.
I lay inside it, wearing my favorite white dress. Mommy had found it in the middle of the night.
Mommy pulled a little stool over and sat beside me.
She held a pair of nail clippers in her hand.
She gently lifted one of my stiff, cold little hands, moving so carefully, like she was afraid she might wake me up.
Mommy spoke in a soft voice.
“My Emily always liked to be clean. We can’t let your nails get too long.”
She stared at my little fingernail for a long time.
Then, without warning, tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on the back of my hand.
“Mommy still remembers when you first learned how to grab things.”
“Your little hands were so chubby, and your nails were so soft. Mommy was always scared I’d hurt you when I tried to cut them.”
She kept clipping my nails as she talked.
It was almost like I was only sleeping and listening to her.
“Then you got a little bigger and started wiggling all over the place. Cutting your nails became a whole battle every time.”
“One time, Mommy accidentally clipped your skin.”
“You cried so hard. Mommy cried too.”
“After that, Mommy was extra careful every time I cut your nails.”
I crouched beside her and looked at her gentle face and trembling hands.
“I remember that, Mommy.”
“It didn’t really hurt anymore. I was just scared because you looked so scared.”
Of course, Mommy couldn’t hear me.
After she finished one hand, she gently lifted the other.
“When you were born, you were so tiny and red.”
“But you cried so loudly.”
“The doctor brought you over to me, and I thought my heart was going to burst.”
“I just kept thinking, ‘This is my baby. I’m going to give her everything in the world.'”
Her tears came faster.
Her voice broke so badly she could barely keep talking.
“But just a few days later, the doctor told me there was something wrong with your body.”
“He said you might not grow up.”
Mommy stopped.
She took a deep breath and stayed quiet for a long time before she could speak again.
“Mommy felt like the whole world had fallen apart.”
“I didn’t believe him. I carried you everywhere, looking for hospitals and specialists.”
“I didn’t care how much it cost.”
“As long as you could stay alive and grow up healthy, Mommy would have done anything.”
She finally finished cutting all my nails.
But she didn’t let go of my hands.
Instead, she gently brought my two cold little hands together and held them in her palms, like they were something precious and fragile.
She lowered her head and rested her forehead against the back of my hand.
“When Lily was born, Mommy was happy.”
“But I was scared too.”
“I was happy that you had a little sister. Someone you could grow up and play with.”
“But I was scared I wouldn’t have enough time for you anymore.”
“I was scared I’d have to give her some of the love that was supposed to be yours.”
Mommy lifted her head.
Tears ran down her tired face.
“Emily, Mommy is so sorry.”
“Sometimes Mommy got so tired, and I said things I shouldn’t have.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“Please don’t hate Mommy, okay?”
“I really, really tried my best.”
I reached out and wrapped my arms around Mommy’s trembling shoulders.
I pressed my face close to her tear-streaked cheek and kept whispering,
“I don’t hate you, Mommy.”
“I never hated you.”
“I know you were tired. I know you loved me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was always sick. I always made you worry. I was always making things harder for you.”
But only the air could hear me.
Across the room, Daddy looked like he had aged ten years overnight.
His hair had turned almost completely gray.
He had quit smoking years ago.
But now he lit a cigarette again.
He walked into my little bedroom by himself.
Everything was still exactly the way I had left it.
My unfinished drawing was spread across the desk.
My favorite stuffed bunny was sitting on my bed.
Daddy sat down beside the bed.
His fingers gently brushed over the bunny’s long ears, so softly it was almost like he was touching me.
Then his eyes fell on the little piggy bank sitting on my nightstand.
Daddy had given it to me for my fifth birthday.
Beside it was a little note I had written in crooked, messy letters.
“Save enough money to buy Daddy a new belt, Mommy a pretty dress, and Lily a big stuffed animal!”
Daddy reached out and picked up the piggy bank.
He whispered,
“Silly girl. The first thing you thought about when you had money was buying things for us.”
He remembered how I used to carefully put every bit of allowance into the piggy bank.
I would look at him with the biggest smile and say,
“I saved some more, Daddy! Look! My piggy bank is almost full!”
The pain finally became too much for Daddy to hold.
He hugged the piggy bank tightly against his chest.
His other hand grabbed the front of his shirt over his heart.
It hurt so badly it felt like his heart might bleed.
Tears poured down his face and fell onto the floor.
“Emily, Daddy’s baby girl.”
“I never got to see you grow up.”
“I never got the chance to make you better.”
“How could you leave me like this?”
He broke down completely.
I floated over to him and reached out, trying so hard to wipe the tears from his face.
But my fingers went straight through his wet cheek.
I couldn’t take even one tear away.
All I could do was watch the man who had once tried to build a whole world around me fall completely apart inside my little bedroom.