River

 

The phone rang violently into the lazy sounds of the afternoon. Unfortunately, no one was in the apartment at that moment. After all, it was the May long weekend, so who wanted to stay home and be bored like a dog? You could just as easily be bored at the garden, on a trip, or anywhere else, as long as it wasn't at home. And so the household had gone off somewhere, where they were delightfully bored in their own way. Like dogs.

The person on the other end of the phone likely didn't fully realize the gravity of the May long weekend, and continued to persistently call the apartment. They hoped someone would finally answer without forcing them to stand in the hallway forever in flimsy pajamas and an equally flimsy bathrobe. The person was unlucky. They had to wait a little longer to inform their family. That they had contracted a very serious illness. And that there was likely no chance of recovery. And that, in this person's mind, it would become a huge burden on the family.

The door to the oncology ward burst open, and a couple rushed into the corridor. They stood in the middle, unsure where to go or what to do. A nurse running past them stopped and looked at them with undisguised curiosity.

"Can I help you with something?

" "Do you know where my mother is?" the woman asked.

"What's her name?" the nurse asked calmly.

"Oh, excuse me. Nowak. Janina Nowak.

" "Oh, that lovely old lady," the nurse smiled. "Room number 13. Straight ahead, and the last door on the left.

" "She's really bad." The woman hugged the man's arm and burst into tears. The man stroked her hair, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and looked into her eyes.

"Let's ask her attending physician. He'll tell us everything. Okay?"

"Okay," the woman pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped the tears still escaping from beneath her closed eyelids.

"Your mother's condition is very serious." A kind, elderly man, Janina's doctor, turned from the window and looked at the couple with a look that said everything would be alright. "I deeply regret that Janina has only just come to us. But please don't worry. We will do everything in our power.

" "Doctor, how much time do you think she has left?" the woman asked.

"Please be optimistic.

" "How much time does she have left?"

After a moment of silence, which for the daughter of a dying mother was an eternity, the doctor replied:

"A month at worst."

Something inside the woman snapped. Up until that moment, she'd still been under the illusion that her mother would recover, that she'd come to them, and ask with a hint of irony, as she always did, what the hell they were doing instead of occupying her time with something more sensible than sitting in the hospital. But she wouldn't. Suddenly, she wouldn't get up from the bed where she lay, pinned by hundreds of wires and tubes, connected to all the machines around her. She wouldn't do it because... She was dying.

"Mom, why?" her daughter asked Mrs. Janina. "Why didn't you tell us something was wrong? Why didn't you go to the doctor sooner?

" "Oh, child," her mother replied. "I'm old now, and I know my time will come soon.

" "Mom, don't talk like that...

" "Hush. I know I'm dying. And please, don't despair for me. Because it won't do any good." Neither for you, because you'll only sink deeper into sadness, nor for me—because what good does the dead need the wailing of the living? It won't revive them.

At that moment, a doctor entered the room with a broad smile.

"Well, Mrs. Janina, the results are very promising," he said, waving a sheaf of colorful notes in front of the women's faces. "If this continues, I even anticipate your discharge soon."

The daughter, completely happy, smiled at her mother and hugged her with all her might. Everything will be alright, she thought. When Mom gets out of the hospital, I'll take her in. I'll take care of her like I should have long ago.

Mom realized with horror that she couldn't help but die. She'd had enough of life. She'd lived through what she had to live through. She'd had enough. She wanted to go... wherever one goes after death and finally meet her long-dead husband. She'd had enough of the pain and suffering. So what if she gets better now, and then the disease attacks with redoubled force? I don't want this, she thought fearfully. I don't want to die in even greater agony. I want to end my life, cross the river called life, and lie down in a meadow with my husband among the flowers.

In the morning, her smiling daughter entered room number 13 and found, instead of her mother, a nurse changing the sheets. She ran out and bumped into a gloomy doctor, the same one who had shown her and her mother the results yesterday.

"Doctor, what happened?

Please sit down, okay?" the doctor said in his calm voice. "Your mother... your mother passed away tonight."

"What do you mean? She passed away?" she asked with tears in her eyes. "There was improvement yesterday, the doctor himself said so.

" "Ms. Janina must have changed something on the IV drip and... your body received too much medication. Your heart stopped beating, and your brain didn't receive enough oxygen. I'm so sorry.

" "Thank you, doctor." The woman stood up and headed for the exit.

"Wait a moment. We found this note by your mother's bed.

On the note were her mother's words. Words addressed to her:

'My daughter. I'm sorry I left. That I left like that. But I couldn't do otherwise. I didn't want to suffer any longer. Forgive me that you're suffering because of me. Mom.'"

The girl knelt on the floor and burst into tears. No, Mom, she thought, I don't hold a grudge against you. I hope you're better off now than here. Goodbye, Mom. We'll see each other again someday.

Despite the tears streaming down her cheeks, she smiled at her mother. Or rather, at the memory of her mother, which would remain with her forever.