The Lightness of Bones
written by: Pamela Ebel
Sunday morning, 9:00 a.m. in an opulent parlor in the Art Deco funeral home in New Orleans.
Heavy oil paintings of the men who have made a living from the dead stared solemnly at me.
A parking lot full of vehicles told me that, despite statements to the contrary, Death does not take a holiday or a Sunday off.
A bereavement planner in a counseling room asked questions, checked boxes, like placing nails in a coffin.
Guilt overpowered my composure, because mama was still alive.
Day three of the Death Watch – with no food or water and the only oxygen poured into her coming through a rattling tank at the head of her bed. But still she lived. Early morning coffee grew cold in our cups as I sang her favorite song, “You are my Sunshine.”
I picked up her frail hand and wrist, paper thin, almost without weight, and told her I loved her.
The Great Thief Dementia had stolen most of her memory and speech skills. Still, she always knew me, and we had made the decisions before. Now it was time.
In a showroom, like a department store, shelves filled with receptacles to contain the “loved one’s” remains stared at me.
One of these or a plastic bag inside of a cardboard box it had been explained to me.
An irony that would not be lost on a child of the Great Depression.
Two days later, at 7:00 a.m. mama was called and moved on. The last breath and the hand of the woman that had been with me since my birth slipped from my grasp, disappearing into air.
Seven days later, I picked her up in a box of beautiful Cherry Wood, one of her favorites.
We drove to our Alabama island home, sharing the news she had missed and the Cherry Wood gleamed.
The next morning, mama and I walked to Sunrise Point and as the sun rose, I removed the plastic bag from the box and let her ashes and spirit rise upward.
As she floated away, I marveled at the lightness of bones.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Weight We Carry
- The Lightness of Bones - May 28, 2026
- Sipping with Queens and Angels - April 2, 2026
- Spotlight On Writers – Pamela Ebel - March 21, 2026
