~For Miss Dennis

The woman cried, feeling the sting of cancer, even through the pain-killers. People clustered around her bedside, gripping her hand tightly between their sweaty palms. They cast fervent prayers Heavenward, hoping that there was a God who would listen, for even with death, comfort came in the thought of an afterlife.

As if she knew they were her last words, she beckoned the others closer to her side, whispering in a voice that promised hundreds of stories left untold. “Promise me you’ll write,” she pleaded, as if the words meant more to her than to anyone else. “Write for me.”

Her bedside gatherers bobbed their heads, anything to soothe her entrance from this world into the next. She nodded as well, as if in peace, and although there was more she wanted to say – always more words to be given – she stopped, leaving them with what she had already spoken. With luck, there would be time for more tomorrow. If not, these would be remembered.

The hospital bedsheets met her as she fell back, weary, against them, but she smiled, closing her eyes. For thirty years of her life, she had taught her students to write, from the most lackluster among them to the most verbose. She taught them about the 1920’s, playing The Great Gatsby movie so many times that she knew every line by heart. However, she had taught outside of the classroom as well, spreading love and kind words to anyone she could give them to. Her lessons had been gathered, and as she rifled through her memories, fifty-eight years on this planet didn’t seem so bad.

The next few hours were a hazy blur, broken only by the occasional needles and the entrance or exit of a close friend or family member. Finally, she fell unconscious, a relief from the chaos surrounding her. Nothing more could be done for her, the doctors said, staring at the ground in reluctance. All they could do was sit and wait.

When the time of death was announced, tears came slowly, as if those gathered did not believe that the wonderful woman before them could be anything but sleeping. One by one, they buried their heads in others’ chest, searching for comfort and embarrassed to show such raw grief.

However, above their heads, angels wept for joy, welcoming the return of one of their beloved to her Heavenly home. When the woman opened her eyes, she was handed a white garment laced with gold and a bright halo. “You were loved by your students,” the angel said for comfort, and the woman smiled. Turning back to where she had come from, she looked lovingly down on those she had left behind, but only for a little while.

Then, taking the angel’s hand, she followed them through the golden gates of Paradise.