Mother jumped out of the way and walked farther down along the cage bars, and I’m not sure what happened next. I suppose the beast mistook Mother’s movement for that of the boy, and he charged her, managing to slip his horn through the cage and gore her. God, why did I agree to escort her to such a dangerous place?”
Graham was silent as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring at his mother’s sleeping face. Knowing his silence could only serve to make Fletcher feel worse, Violet said, “How could you possibly have known what would happen, Fletcher? You were a good son doing a nice thing for his mother.”
She glanced at her mother-in-law, who lay under piles of blankets. She wondered what pulling back the covers would reveal. Probably a wound too awful to contemplate.
“I suppose,” Fletcher said. “You can’t imagine the noise the thing made, grunting and snorting. It actually managed to work itself up to a gallop inside its small confines. Poor Mother, she never saw him coming. The zookeeper said they have poor eyesight and that tends to make them volatile.” He turned back to the prone figure. “Mother, I am so sorry.”
Still Graham said nothing, although he did reach out a hand to clap his brother on the shoulder.
“Fletcher, what did the doctor say?” Violet asked.
Fletcher let out a single great sob and shook his head. “He tended to her chest wound, and said it was very deep and jagged. She had blood everywhere, it was terrible. She runs a great risk of infection, and the doctor said we can only wait and see.”
Within a day, though, it was apparent that Ida was not going to survive her injuries. She woke for brief periods and expressed delight to have her two sons nearby, although Violet detected a faint scowl on the woman’s face whenever she entered the room.
Very well, let her be with her boys. Violet busied herself by bringing in sprays of flowers that she picked from Ida’s small garden and ensuring Ida had the tastiest of foods to eat, most of which were ignored.
Ida refusing food was the surest sign that the woman was not long for the world.
Violet brought in a recording journal, but when the men showed little interest in using it, Violet spent as much time as she could tucked discreetly in a corner of her mother-in-law’s bedroom, in order to record Ida’s final days. To the best of her ability, Violet captured the days and times that Ida was awake and sleeping, what her countenance was like, and every word she uttered. She also recorded the prayers that both men said over their mother, and what actions they took, whether to hold her hands, dab her face with cool water, or change out a blanket.
The important moment would come when Ida told them that she accepted her fate and had made peace with God. This was also a moment when family members expected their loved one to make final wishes or commands. Even better was if the dying one had any sort of visions of the great beyond to share with the family. It was vital that Violet be there to record exactly what Ida said.
Every devoted family created such a journal for family members who died of illness, old age, or for other reasons that did not result in instantaneous death. The journal would be passed down through the family, so that future generations could know their ancestor, although the future existence of the Morgan family seemed relatively bleak.
Despite Violet’s long vigil at Ida Morgan’s bedside with Graham and Fletcher, her mother-in-law slipped away in the middle of the night about two weeks after her goring without ever giving her sons a final message or exhortation.
After Ida’s great “whoosh,” the distinctive noisy breath that indicated a passing, Graham looked at Violet and said simply, “I can’t.”
“I understand.” Violet arranged to have another undertaking company make all arrangements for her mother-in-law, working closely with them without ever sharing the details with Graham, who holed
Graham was silent as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring at his mother’s sleeping face. Knowing his silence could only serve to make Fletcher feel worse, Violet said, “How could you possibly have known what would happen, Fletcher? You were a good son doing a nice thing for his mother.”
She glanced at her mother-in-law, who lay under piles of blankets. She wondered what pulling back the covers would reveal. Probably a wound too awful to contemplate.
“I suppose,” Fletcher said. “You can’t imagine the noise the thing made, grunting and snorting. It actually managed to work itself up to a gallop inside its small confines. Poor Mother, she never saw him coming. The zookeeper said they have poor eyesight and that tends to make them volatile.” He turned back to the prone figure. “Mother, I am so sorry.”
Still Graham said nothing, although he did reach out a hand to clap his brother on the shoulder.
“Fletcher, what did the doctor say?” Violet asked.
Fletcher let out a single great sob and shook his head. “He tended to her chest wound, and said it was very deep and jagged. She had blood everywhere, it was terrible. She runs a great risk of infection, and the doctor said we can only wait and see.”
Within a day, though, it was apparent that Ida was not going to survive her injuries. She woke for brief periods and expressed delight to have her two sons nearby, although Violet detected a faint scowl on the woman’s face whenever she entered the room.
Very well, let her be with her boys. Violet busied herself by bringing in sprays of flowers that she picked from Ida’s small garden and ensuring Ida had the tastiest of foods to eat, most of which were ignored.
Ida refusing food was the surest sign that the woman was not long for the world.
Violet brought in a recording journal, but when the men showed little interest in using it, Violet spent as much time as she could tucked discreetly in a corner of her mother-in-law’s bedroom, in order to record Ida’s final days. To the best of her ability, Violet captured the days and times that Ida was awake and sleeping, what her countenance was like, and every word she uttered. She also recorded the prayers that both men said over their mother, and what actions they took, whether to hold her hands, dab her face with cool water, or change out a blanket.
The important moment would come when Ida told them that she accepted her fate and had made peace with God. This was also a moment when family members expected their loved one to make final wishes or commands. Even better was if the dying one had any sort of visions of the great beyond to share with the family. It was vital that Violet be there to record exactly what Ida said.
Every devoted family created such a journal for family members who died of illness, old age, or for other reasons that did not result in instantaneous death. The journal would be passed down through the family, so that future generations could know their ancestor, although the future existence of the Morgan family seemed relatively bleak.
Despite Violet’s long vigil at Ida Morgan’s bedside with Graham and Fletcher, her mother-in-law slipped away in the middle of the night about two weeks after her goring without ever giving her sons a final message or exhortation.
After Ida’s great “whoosh,” the distinctive noisy breath that indicated a passing, Graham looked at Violet and said simply, “I can’t.”
“I understand.” Violet arranged to have another undertaking company make all arrangements for her mother-in-law, working closely with them without ever sharing the details with Graham, who holed
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