I took a break and started writing other stuff, but now I'm back with this one. Yay.
Okay… FYI: I didn't want to do this but this needs it for the story to keep going.
Disclaimer: I saw Anthony Rapp at a book thing (yay!), but I don't own RENT…
A year later, Abuela got sick. She was in then out then in the hospital again – and she didn't come out the second time. Her will was simple. One sentence: I, Gabriella Ruby Dumoutt, leave all my possessions to Michelle Maria Marquez and Michelangelo Dumoutt-Schunard.
Her funeral was simple, as well. That was one of her final requests.
Angel on her left and Mimi on her right, she grasped both of their hands. Her wrinkled face was tired, and her eyes were looking somewhere beyond this world.
"Angelo…" the name was weak in her mouth.
"Si, Abuela. Estoy aqui." (Yes, Abuela. I am here.)
"Angelo… don't let others keep you upset. I love you as my daughter as much as I love you as my grandson. Don't make my funeral fancy… save that money for what you need. Keep being everyone's Angel… keep dancing and playing dress-up." A small chuckle quickly turned into a cough. One of the monitors blipped and then it went back to normal.
"Mimi, my girl. Thank you for coming to my life. Thank you for helping my Angelo… I don't know the details, but I know that if it weren't for you, my Angelo would not be here. So thank you… I love you both" and her hand went limp. Angel checked her breathing… it was so soft you could hardly feel it, but it was there. She smiled reassuringly at Mimi, and for a split second they were both allowed the thought of Abuela surviving this.
That's when the chaos started.
The machines all started beeping at once.
Nurses rushed in, pushing the two girls out of the way.
They were shouting commands at each other.
And then, one flat monotone beep.
Abuela was still asleep… wasn't she? Just… asleep. Right.
One of the nurses moved, and Mimi saw the machine that monitored her heart… it was one flat green line.
She looked at Angel, and saw all the joy sucked out of the skirted boy.
And the next thing she knew, she was on a wooden pew in a church.
Angel's voice drifted through her conscious mind.
"Mi abuela es mi mama," (my grandmother was my mom) Angel began. "She sheltered me and helped me survive through both my parent's… passings. She supported me in being gay. She did everything like a supportive parent… I loved her like no otra." (no other)
Suddenly, it was Mimi's turn to speak. Her legs carried her to the podium, her mind still in the hospital. She took a deep breath, and began.
"Abuela saved me. She took me in when I got kicked out. She treated me like a daughter of her own… I truly owe her my life. I only knew her for one year… but it felt like my whole life." A few words tumbled off her tongue to a tune.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
Angel joined in, the words tumbling naturally out of her trembling mouth.
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles in laugher in strife in
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?
Everyone there responded with
How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love.
Seasons of love.
Seasons of love…
--
At the gravesite, Mimi read the inscription on her guardian's gravestone.
Gabriella Ruby Dumoutt
Loving mother
Caring Abuela
Rest in Peace
Mimi's eyes burned. These short words were true, yes, but they didn't capture much about her at all. It didn't capture her spirit, those moments when she really listened, or her open arms when you had tearstains on your face. Mimi felt an arm around her. She turned and saw Angel standing next to her, tears in her eyes, too. Eyeliner was crawling its way down her cheeks with the tears. Mimi wrapped the drag queen in a tight hug as they both walked away, arm in arm, from Abuela's friends and family.
Yes, it's sad. Sorry for the long wait… this will be pretty sad for a while, but it does get better, I promice!