Ashes to Ashes

by caccy46

It was her third seizure in as many months that sent us racing to the closest emergency clinic late at night, Millie bundled in a towel on my lap, deathly still with an occasional twitch of a leg, encouraging me that she was hanging on. In the examining room, I placed her on the floor, at the doctor's request; and we watched very quietly as she struggled to walk, her head listing to one side as though her vertebrae were melting, slowly she wobbled in several circles until I scooped her up to lay limply in my lap again. She was always comfortable curled in my lap, and that's how she remained as we watched her slip away. An extra $150 insured us she'd be cremated alone; and when the box arrived several weeks later, I chose not to question if these remains were in fact just Millie. I buried her ashes under the sweetest lily I could find; and now, a year later, I marvel at her newly found strength and beauty. My lovely, orange-speckled Millie Lily.


caccy46, author of I Call a Do-Over, is 60 years old, a mother of two, and has been married for 32 years.


Quin said...

ah, so softly put. those are sometimes our hardest deaths to deal with...

Madam Z said...

Sweet and touching. Brings back memories.

Rebekah said...

I couldn't NOT comment even though I don't know you.

I'm so sorry.