Danae

Eulogy

I remember one morning when Ella came and spoke to me. Her white hair was mated to her face by tears. I wasn’t sure what to tell her. She was always doing this. Crying for no reason. No, that’s not true. She would patter up to me all the time, weeping, weeping a child’s tears for all the people she had ever known and forgotten. “What happened to them? Where are they now? Why aren’t they here?”

She would come to me with young eyes framed by pearly wrinkles. She was a soft baby with a toddler’s inquisitiveness, always wondering Why? Why? Why do we have to die? Where do we go when it happens? Why? She was a fragile child in the body of a 98 year old, preoccupied with death. Worrying.

I didn’t have the answers for her. I didn’t have them for myself. What was I supposed to tell her?

I took care of her. She couldn’t do it herself. Some days she would just sit in her big faded easy chair for hours, doing nothing. Thinking nothing. I would watch her and wonder why her body was waiting to die. What did she have left to do? Why?

But some days she would remember. She would remember the life she used to have. The dances she would to go to. The old beaus. Her family. Why was it gone? Where had all of her friends gone to? Her voice held, in those moments, all the innocence and sadness that she had ever touched in her life.

I just didn’t have the answers for her. I wish I had. I wish I had just invented something for her.

“Ella, they’re with God. They’re waiting for you with God.”

But I didn’t want to coax her into dying. And I didn’t want to give her hope for something I knew couldn’t be true. I didn’t want to lie, because I loved her.

What do you tell someone who shuffles up to you in padded slippers and a pink nighty while you’re making her breakfast? What do you tell her when she asks her what her life means? What she has amounted to? What’s going to be left of her when she’s gone? Why?

What should I have told her? I just don’t know.

I suppose it’s too late now. I couldn’t do anything to help her, but I can let her help me. I will let her memory and memories teach me something. And maybe that’s enough for her.

__________________
I didn't like it, I was excited by it

Chris Miller

I really liked this Danae. It made me think of my grandmother (who is 100) down in the states, sitting in a tiny extended care room, slowly going blind, listening to Jesus on the radio, waiting to get together with him and my grandfather, her husband of 75 years. See. You got me.

I am hesitant to critique a piece so obviously personal.

I think you mean "matted" but I could be wrong.

Nice. Nice character study.

I hope you don't mind a suggestion.

I feel the piece cries out for more detail from her/your past. Fashback to specific memories of her when she was young, specific incidents and conversations. This could break up the angst a little and give it more impact. Develop this earilier persona and then (implicitly, not explicitly) compare and contrast it with her now.

As an geriatric orderly I was always amazed when I would see a framed picture of some old lady standing on her nighttable. And she was gorgeous! Vibrant and alive. Hot even.


I liked the ending. Subtle. True.

__________________
the fairwriting blogs

Barcelona Review story: http://www.barcelonareview.com/64/e_cm.html

Danae

Thanks a lot for reading.
And I'm glad you critiqued. It isn't actually anything very personal; it's just something I invented. But, I suppose I was thinking of my grandmother, also.

I did mean matted. yay for typos.

Yeah, I see what you mean about it wanting more detail. I might do that someday, but I really just wanted to leave this piece a bit bare-bones. I'm a fan of implications.

Really it's just supposed to be a Eulogy (I picture the narrator getting up and giving this vague speech to a small crowd). I think I might make that more obvious with the piece itself.

Thanks, again!

__________________
I didn't like it, I was excited by it

bicycle

i really like your descriptions of the character. it's a good topic because i think it's a question that has plauged us all at one point. I also like how you let the reader come to their own conclusion about the end.

__________________
we accept the love we think we deserve.

Danae

Thanks. I debated about letting the piece conclude like that, so I'm glad you have positive remarks.

__________________
I didn't like it, I was excited by it