That year, Father’s Day and our anniversary fell on the same day, and was spent stuffing and zipping suitcases before scurrying off to the airport.  We hugged goodbye as I gathered my three chicks around me like a mother hen and shuffled them through security to the boarding gate.


Table Mountain 3

One overnight leg from the southwestern tip of Africa to the bustling hub of London and a long, hungry layover in Heathrow.  Another skip across the ocean after a three-hour delay, a missed flight, an unexpected night in a Cleveland hotel.  Forty-something hours and four flights altogether, we finally arrived.

And she was waiting.  It had been almost eight months since I’d seen her, and her health had deteriorated beyond my sleepless night wonderings.

But we were there, and she exhaled.

And for the first time, I understood what it felt like to be waited for.


Written in five minutes on the prompt “Exhale” over at Lisa-Jo Baker’s place.  For more Five-Minute Friday posts, click here.




10 thoughts on “exhale

  1. This gave me goosebumps – I’m glad you got to be there for her final moments…was this your mother?
    Praying for you and thank you for sharing this.
    {Erika Marie via FMF}

  2. I am loving these posts. My momma passed suddenly 1.5 years ago. I had the chance to care for her daily but the loss was just ad hard. I love your perspective on your times together.

    • I’m so very sorry for your loss. I agree, the pain is just as raw no matter how it happens. So glad you are able to relate to some of the experiences shared here. May you continue to find comfort and sufficient grace from above.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s