“Life is short…” (Prompt c/o 500 Writing Prompts by Barnes & Noble)
She stared out the window, through her grey-rimmed glasses, with her eyes to the sky. She was searching for something– Bailey could tell by her Nana’s thoughtful silence.
“Yes, Nan?” answered Bailey’s five-year-old voice.
“You see those two skinny clouds up there in the sky? The ones that make the cross?” She tapped on the glass of the car window in the direction of the clouds. Bailey turned her blue eyes to an even bluer sky and hunted for the cross. Her brow furrowed as her eyes darted across the sky in pursuit of the white image. When her eyes finally danced across those two clouds, she pointed at them jovially, completely pleased with her ability to win this game of I-Spy with her Nana.
“There!” she exclaimed with a smile, “There it is! I found it!”
Her Nana chuckled and turned around in her passenger seat to look at her granddaughter. She brushed a wisp of blonde hair from her face and said, “Whenever you see a cross in the sky, a cross like that one, just know that I’m thinking about how much I love you from wherever I am. Can you do that, hon?”
Bailey nodded happily, “I can do that Nana. Oh, and when you see the cross clouds, will you remember how much I love you back?”
With a smile, Nana reached for Bailey’s tiny hand and whispered, “Anything for you, hon. Anything.”
Nearly thirteen quick years have passed since that day. Not one day goes by when skinny crosses in the sky don’t remind me of my Nana, the invincible woman with the warmest embrace and kindest of hearts.
But today…today I didn’t see a white cross in the sky. I saw grey. The grey of Stage 2 Pancreatic Cancer. The grey of a 7% chance of survival. The grey of the question which has plagued my every thought: “Why her?”
I am no closer to finding my answer to this question; no, I find myself drowning in the golden memories of times-passed, counting the short days ahead with a cry for ignorance. Numbered days make for long goodbyes. I am not ready to say goodbye. So today I hid under my grey blanket of clouds and cried for ignorance, for relief, for a miracle. Today I needed those two white clouds to be perched perfectly in a crisp blue sky…but today God gave me the grey of uncertainty.