Questions?

There are questions in my mind

Questions I don't know how to ask

Questions whose answers I'm not even sure I want to know

Not questions about the universe

About why we're here

or even who put us here

But questions all the same

These questions press on my heart

Pressing harder with every beat

If I knew the answers would I wish I didn't

If I asked the questions would I wish I hadn't

To ask the questions would be to put my heart on the line

Answers I'm so desperate to hear

Yet questions I'm terrified to ask

What would my answers be if the questions had been asked?

I heard Grandma's tap on the door, I saw her face look through the window and I saw the pearly tears drop from her eyes, nobody else saw, Daddy was asleep and Mommy was barley well enough to keep her eyes open.

Grandma walked through the door; she kissed Mommy's head and began to stroke her hair unaware of anyone else present in the room. She was in her own little world, a world that was made of her and Mommy. I was just an outsider watching what was going on, tears fell from my eye's, I tried to stop them, but they seemed to have a will of their own.

I didn't like crying it showed weakness and knew I had to be strong for Mommy; my tears weren't going to mend her. I had to be strong. Grandma soon realized I was present and scooped me into her arms rocking my gently as if I were baby, she whispered incoherent things into my ear, but I let her, it was her way of coping with what had happened to her precious Rory, My Mommy.

My Mommy was a stranger to me, I didn't see her often, she lived in different countries, I saw her more often on the T.V. than in person, but I didn't feel sorry for myself I was proud of my Mommy. She was my hero.

Daddy stirred his eyes flickered open; he caught sight of Grandma, and quickly shook himself brushing away any traces of sleep left behind. He stood up and greeted Grandma; I could see the tears glistening behind his weary eyes. Grandma still held me close. The grown-ups whispered using words that sounded scary.

"Is Mommy going to die?" I managed to choke out, it felt like a huge ball was stuck in my throat and my face was wet again, I worked out I must be crying again, it had happened so much lately that it was becoming the norm. I was scared of the answer they were going to give me; I wished I'd never asked the question, it would have been better left unsaid.

Daddy and Grandma stumbled with their words shocked by my bluntness. I wanted the answer so badly, I wanted to hear Grandma say "Of course not honey, Mommy's going to be fine" in her sing-song tone I loved so much. Yet neither of them said anything, Silence reigned in that small room, the tension pressing against each heart, that was beating.

Finally Daddy broke the silence "I don't know, I really don't know" he whispered into the floor.