Masterpiece

Still Drowning

The grass finally covered the ugly spot where Clementine's sleeping body rested in her casket. It took three years, but the green sprouts took over the brown filth that buried the clean, pure, pink coffin. I stood over the gloomy, grey stone that sat above her head, next to fathers headstone.

I quietly sang the words of her favorite lullaby, just like the hundreds of times before, when I would come to visit.

Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin', Clementine, you are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine.

Ruby lips above the water, blowing bubbles, soft and fine, but alas I am no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine.

I stopped at the verse that was the hardest for me to sing. Every time, I would choke on the words. I stood for a moment, but soon, slowly stepped next to the small headstone, placing my hand on its rough surface.

"Clementine Locfeild. Nineteen forty-two to nineteen forty-eight. A masterpiece, who's smile will never be swept away by our tears of sadness and loss."  I whispered as I towered over the stone. I had read those same words a thousand times and I had been to her gravesite even more than that and yet, it still killed me every time. I could still see her wet body resting in my arms, as my mother weeped within her hands.

That's right, my mother. I had forgotten what happened, just a few days before. She had collapsed in the middle of her small flower garden. When I found her, her face was burning, she had cold sweat, she was shivering. She had the worst fever I had ever seen.
That night, when she rested in her bed, waiting for the doctor, all she did was cough. She coughed and wheezed, like there was something in her lungs. I stayed next to her the entire night, holding her clammy hands.

When the doctor arrived, he did a series of tests and exams, asking her questions, and taking her temperature.
When he was finished, he pulled me out of the room.

"What's going on with her? Is she going to be alright?" I asked frantically.

"Usually I would say yes, son, but she has a serious case of pneumonia. She has had the symptoms for quite some time, but she never went to someone to treat it." My heart sank.

"There is nothing you can do?" I looked at him with hope in my eyes.

"There is, but it might not even work at this point." I fell into the nearest chair with my hand over my mouth. I remembered when I first heard her start to cough and she started to become weaker. How could I have not noticed she was getting worse? Why did she hide it from me? I never thought that this would be happening again.

"I will be back tomorrow to start her treatment, but I wouldn't get your hopes up." He placed his hat back on top of his head and started to head for the door.

"Doctor Lennon, what is pneumonia?" He stopped and looked at me as if his heart broke along with mine. He knew my family and their history. I could tell whatever he was going to say next would just tear me apart.

"Well, uh, son it's, it's a bacterial infection in the lung. The lung basically fills with liquid, and if you don't get it treated, it continues to get worse  you eventually can't breathe." He hesitantly said.

I looked up at him with broken eyes. It was happening again. It seemed to never end.

"So, my mother is dying?"

"I'm sorry son."

"And her lungs are filling up with liquid?" He just stared at me.

"So, she's drowning."