Empty Breathing
by Michael C. Keith
Genre: Humour
Swearwords: None.
Description: Every breath she takes, every move she makes . . .
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A mother’s influence lasts far beyond her last breath. – Unknown author
Mrs. Lyle was disconnected from life support, and as her final moments slipped away, she quietly gasped for air.
“It’s just a non-cognitive reflex,” replied the nurse, when Joel asked why his mother was still trying to catch her breath.
“But it looks like she’s trying to come around . . . to stay alive.”
“I know, Mr. Lyle. We call it Empty Breathing, but they all pretty much do that. She’s really gone. I’m sorry. It’s very hard to lose a parent,” said the nurse, switching off the monitor that displayed a flat red line.
Joel sat beside his mother as her seeming attempts to draw breath gradually subsided and then stopped. A few minutes later, a doctor came into the room and officially pronounced her dead.
“She held on for a long time, Joel. Fought the good fight, as they say. At peace now,” he said sympathetically and quickly went on his way.
Mrs. Lyle’s grieving son remained in the room until the daylight seeping through the curtains dulled.
“Goodbye, Mother,” Joel finally whispered, moving the bed cover over her face the way he’d seen in movies.
When he gave his mother one last glimpse before leaving, he was startled by what he saw. The sheet across her face appeared to be moving up and down. What happened next so flabbergasted Joel that he fell backwards onto the empty bed next to his mother’s.
“Take this thing off my face, you idiot,” demanded the muffled voice from beneath the cover. “Are you trying to kill me? Can’t you see I’m breathing? Non-cognitive reflex, my ass!”
Swearwords: None.
Description: Every breath she takes, every move she makes . . .
_____________________________________________________________________
A mother’s influence lasts far beyond her last breath. – Unknown author
Mrs. Lyle was disconnected from life support, and as her final moments slipped away, she quietly gasped for air.
“It’s just a non-cognitive reflex,” replied the nurse, when Joel asked why his mother was still trying to catch her breath.
“But it looks like she’s trying to come around . . . to stay alive.”
“I know, Mr. Lyle. We call it Empty Breathing, but they all pretty much do that. She’s really gone. I’m sorry. It’s very hard to lose a parent,” said the nurse, switching off the monitor that displayed a flat red line.
Joel sat beside his mother as her seeming attempts to draw breath gradually subsided and then stopped. A few minutes later, a doctor came into the room and officially pronounced her dead.
“She held on for a long time, Joel. Fought the good fight, as they say. At peace now,” he said sympathetically and quickly went on his way.
Mrs. Lyle’s grieving son remained in the room until the daylight seeping through the curtains dulled.
“Goodbye, Mother,” Joel finally whispered, moving the bed cover over her face the way he’d seen in movies.
When he gave his mother one last glimpse before leaving, he was startled by what he saw. The sheet across her face appeared to be moving up and down. What happened next so flabbergasted Joel that he fell backwards onto the empty bed next to his mother’s.
“Take this thing off my face, you idiot,” demanded the muffled voice from beneath the cover. “Are you trying to kill me? Can’t you see I’m breathing? Non-cognitive reflex, my ass!”
About the Author
Originally from Albany, New York, Michael C. Keith has paternal family roots stretching back to Clan Keith of Caithness and Aberdeenshire. A leading scholar in electronic media in the United States, he is the author of over 20 books on electronic media, as well as a memoir and three books of fiction. Much more about Michael and his publications can be found on his website: http://www.michaelckeith.com