~𝒜𝒹𝒶~
John 11:26. A Bible Verse.
"Everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
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In the quiet embrace of April's tender breeze, the room held a serene stillness, as delicate as the petals of spring. The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the scene that unfolded within.
Mary lay in her bed, the lines of worry and pain gently smoothed from her face. Beside her, Sebastian maintained a vigil, his eyes heavy with both fatigue and sorrow. Baby Delphine rested in my arms, the innocence of infancy contrasting with the gravity of the moment.
Gilbert sat at the foot of the bed, a silent sentinel witnessing the gentle transition. The air was filled with a sacred hush, broken only by the occasional creaking of the rocking chair.
Sebastian, attempting a lighthearted tone. "You know, Mary, I was thinking—"
Mary, managing a small smile. "Oh, Bash, I love it when you do that. What were you thinking?"
Sebastian, a twinkle in his eye. "Well, I was thinking about the time you convinced me to try that strawberry jam of yours. You remember the one?"
Mary, chuckling softly. "Oh, yes! The infamous strawberry jam debate. You claimed you didn't like it, but I knew better."
Sebastian, grinning. "Turns out, you were right. It was the best darn jam I've ever tasted."
Mary, teasingly. "It only took you a year to admit it."
Gilbert, joining the banter. "Seems like the jam had quite an impact. Maybe it's the secret to a long, happy marriage."
Sebastian, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we've got the happy part covered. As for long—"
Mary, interjecting with a playful glare. "Watch it, Bash. We're in the presence of a romance expert here."
I roll my eyes before joining the laughter. "Oh, please. I'm just a humble witness to the enduring love of you old fossils."
Delphine, seemingly aware of the lightness, coos in agreement.
Sebastian gives a tender smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Mary turned her gaze toward Gilbert and I. "Thank you both for being here. You've brought so much comfort to me during this trying time."
"It's an honor, Mary. You've touched our lives in ways words can't capture." Gilbert says softly.
I try to hold back tears, "Mary, you've been like family to me. I'll cherish every moment we've shared."
Mary, her voice a gentle whisper, "I'm grateful for our time together. Promise me you'll look out for Bash and Delly."
Gilbert gives her a sincere look, "We'll be here for them, Mary. Always."
I stand from the rocker and place Delphine into Mary's arms. Mary, cradling Delphine close, whispers to her daughter. "You're in great hands, Delly. Mama is going to be watching over you for all of eternity until we meet again." She kisses her head before looking to each of us. "Thank you for being my family."
Sebastian stands and takes a seat on the bed, his voice breaking, "Thank you for changing my life. I love you, Mary." He embraces her and they share a kiss.
I sit by Gilbert and he pulls me into his side, making me feel that everything is going to be alright. In more ways than one. Mary, a faint smile on her lips, looks down at Delphine and begins to sing a lullaby. The room is filled with the bittersweet harmony of her voice. She looks down at Delly as she softly sings,
"Sleep, my angel, close your eyes,
Underneath the moonlit skies.
Dream of joy and love so true,
As the night embraces you.
Stars above will gently gleam,
Guarding every precious dream.
In the quiet of the night,
May your heart find pure delight.
Sleep, my angel, don't you fear,
I'll be with you, always near.
Though my time is drawing nigh,
Love transcends, it never dies."
As the lullaby fades into the tender embrace of the room, Mary's eyes meet each of her loved ones, carrying a profound warmth. As Mary's breathing slowed, the room seemed to hold its breath. Her gaze, though weakened, was filled with a profound sense of peace and acceptance. The passage from life to eternity unfolded with grace, like the closing of a beloved book.
Sebastian, with a tenderness only found in the deepest bonds, whispered soothing words to Mary.
In the final breaths, the room felt suspended in time. A tranquil acceptance enveloped the space, as if nature itself paused to acknowledge the passing of a gentle soul.
And as Mary took her last breath, the soft melody of the lullaby, sung by Gilbert with a voice both broken and steady, filled the room. The bittersweet lullaby that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
In that moment of quiet departure, love lingered in the air, weaving a tapestry of memories that would endure, connecting those who remained with the spirit of the one who had softly departed.