Epilogue
Margaret felt at peace. Perhaps she should have been concerned as she heard Louisa call for an ambulance and the attendants carry her out, but none of it seemed to matter now. Images floated through her mind, the dress she wore to her first cotillion, Christopher when he first made love to her, the candles on the altar when she and Chris were married, the view of Paris from the top of the Eiffel tower one night when they were younger. Yes, they had had a good marriage. Even after Martin was born and Christopher had strayed, he had always made sure she was respected as the wife of a prominent surgeon. She had a good life, the parties, the galas she had organized to raise funds for various hospital needs. She was highly regarded as the head of the hospital auxiliary, everyone always said she was the best president they had ever had. The recognition, the prestige, it was all any woman could ask for.
And Christopher's money. There was always plenty of that for couture clothing, meals at the best restaurants, good seats at all the best theatres, travel to exotic locales. The best of everything.
The only disappointment was their son whose image floated swiftly in, over and past her other more pleasant visions. No need to dwell on him.
She felt disconnected from her body, there were no physical boundaries, as if she and the universe were one and she felt a peace unlike any she had felt before. Every now and then, voices interrupted her reverie pulling her back into her body, the pain in her head intense. She supposed she might be dying, was that what was happening? She wondered if she would go through into the light, the bright white light. That was what everyone said who had a near death experience. Not yet, it seemed. Voices from outside her body seemed busy, intruding on the peace she felt. It was lovely, very peaceful except for the occasional disruption, jostling her out of her dreams. Voices. Was that Martin? "your death will be a relief" … what kind of thing is that to say to your mother? What does he know? I'll be glad to never see him again as well. "Why didn't you love me?" Still whinging. He was never the kind of child that a mother could love. That's all there was to it.
Quiet again. He must be gone. Images of James crossed her mind. Now there was a child that any mother could love, so handsome and polite. She could still see the picture he had drawn and given her when he was a small boy. It sat in a frame next to her bed. He was a child that she could proudly show off to her friends along with his younger brother and sister. Beautiful children. Joanie was just adorable. Everyone always said so. Why did they have to name her after Christopher's uncouth sister, a farmer's wife. So embarrassing.
"Hello Miss Margaret." James, am I hearing James? She needed to let him know she was listening, but she couldn't speak. She tried to press her fingers into his hand. "I wish you liked my Dad. He is the best dad ever." No, no James, he isn't. She needed to tell him, but now he was gone.
It was just as well. All was quiet now and peaceful. Maybe they would leave her alone. Beautiful colours, a sunset. She could see the sun setting, the sky turning a brilliant red, vermilion, almost on fire. She could feel her energy merging into the energy of the universe. The light was coming closer and she could feel its warmth, its heat. Everyone was wrong. It wasn't a bright white light. That would have been cold. This crimson light was warm, hot, getting hotter. The heat was intense and then suddenly all was dark.
THE END
Author's note: I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. I find that I am sad to leave these characters behind, but it's time. Many thanks to my regular reviewers. I thought to name them all but decided against that for fear I would leave someone out. I know it takes time to leave a thoughtful comment, and I truly appreciate the feedback. You may never know how much your comments helped shape the story and how they encouraged me to keep at it. Take care all of you.