Tears at the Cooling

The other passengers blocked her attempt to make a quick exit. Samantha was howling inside but knew without a doubt that she would break down in tears if she begged to get around the others and exit the plane first.

An older brother, Nick, picked her up at the airport and drove her to the hospital. Their brother, Peter, had shocked her the day before with news that their mother had a stroke and most likely wouldn't pull through. Sam flew across the country on the next plane available.

Pete was waiting in the hospital room, and they all hugged. He told her the staff had tried to keep their mother alive until her arrival, but it wasn't possible. Sam's chest heaved, and she collapsed in a chair, sucking air in huge gulps, her hands in tight fists. Her brothers stood a bit away from her and silently waited.

Sam lifted her head and could barely see her mother in the hospital bed, with tears welling in her eyes. She pounded her fists on her thighs and then spread her fingers in her hair, pulling it at the roots. She couldn't see anything through the puddles covering her eyeballs.

"Sam," Peter said, stepping toward her. His sister jumped up and pushed her brothers to the door.

"Please leave me for a bit. My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." 

Pulling a chair up to the hospital bed, Sam took her mother's hand in hers, stroking it, amazed at how soft and smooth it was. The hand was cool now, cooling quickly as the clock ticked off the minutes marching onward past the declared death time, pushing her death further and further into the past and her body cooling, cooling. A gentle smile curved her mother's lips, giving Samantha peace; she rose and joined her brothers in the hallway.

The family gathered at Nick's home that evening, sharing fond memories. When all had gone to bed, Samantha couldn't sleep and wandered the house between one and four a.m. She ran into Nick, who was doing the same. Both finally slept at dawn and arose midmorning to complete the plans for the memorial and funeral.

When Sam saw Nick's choice of a highly gaudy casket, she adamantly told him she was selecting a classy one she knew her mother would like. Nick asked Sam to speak at the funeral. She refused, knowing that her blubbering rather than talking would be embarrassing. He finally understood she was unable to speak in front of a gathering for the funeral and agreed to do it all himself. She helped him select the music and verses.

Sam's quirky brothers wanted to take a photo of their mother at the memorial.

"What? That is crazy; she wouldn't like it!" Sam exclaimed.

Against her objection, Pete went to his vehicle and came back with a Polaroid. Before guests arrived, and only family was in the room, he and Nick approached the casket where their mother lay peacefully. Nick stood behind Pete to block anyone's view while the photo was taken.

"See, you think it's weird too! Otherwise, you wouldn't have Nick helping you hide that you are taking a photo of our dead mom!" Samantha growled.

Pete aimed and clicked, but nothing happened.

"It has film in it," Pete mumbled and tried again. The Polaroid clicked as he hit the button, creaked, and no photo came out.

"I TOLD you she wouldn't like it!" Sam hissed.

Author note: loosely based on true events...

this is for Munson's Challenge: