The Works of Mark EdgemonI Wish To Die Beside You
The Works of Mark Edgemon from

Mark Edgemon has been writing for 30 years. He writes and publishes short stories, articles, poetry and scripts, as well as, produces audio comedy productions for over 700 radio stations nationwide.

Contact Mark through his website, Creator and the Catalyst.

I Wish To Die Beside You

"Can you hear me precious," I said to my beloved, brushing the hair back from her forehead. I leaned close to her face and kissed her eyes as I had often done before her illness. My eyes, a virtual fountain of tears, each drop falling on her cheek as she laid there unconscious before me, wasting away, transforming from a once beautiful angel into an emaciated, withering figure awaiting death.

"I am in agony! My life will be meaningless without her," I cried out in my mind, contemplating suicide the day she is gone from my life.

Interrupting our privacy, the door opens loudly as the physician on record walks into the room. He glanced at her chart, but only for a moment and then looked at her and remarked, "Well" pausing briefly, "It won't be long now!" And with that, he left the room.

I resent that son of a bitch and I almost wished he suffered my agony, the caulis bastard! I hate him for his unconcerned attitude toward her suffering and my wrenching anguish.

In a few moments, I stopped thinking about my anger toward the doctor and looked at her again, remembering back when we were first married. She and I went shopping one day at a craft's fair. We found nothing of interest until suddenly, she spied a hand carved wooden tree ornament, made by one of the traveling craftsman. She had to have it and although we had so little money, I bought it. We had spaghetti that night, no meat or sauce, just noodles, which was all we could afford, as we dined in the reflection of the peaceful lighting from our Christmas tree. She stared at the ornament with a glow on her face that illuminated our darkened room and most certainly, my heart. Christmas never really began for her until she placed that ornament on the tree each year at which time she would always cry.

"How are we today?" a voice boomed from behind me as the door flew open, which jarred me out of my remembrance of happier times. It was the priest that frequented the hospital, dressed in robes, beads and religious jewelry all to let us know, he was somebody important. Well maybe he was to those that played into his act, but I can't imagine that God gave a damn about what he had become, a self righteous, self important piece of...self!

Before I could stop him, he placed his thumbprint dipped in holy water onto her forehead and began chanting something in Latin as he stood over her 70-pound frame, her too much in pain to realize what was happening. How dare this pompous bastard push his way into our moment of grief and afflict us with his voodoo witcheries. I grabbed him by his collar, causing him to spill what was left of his vial of holy water and shoved him out the door, accidentally bumping his head on the doorframe as he fell into the hall.

I went back to her bedside and held her hand again and remembered once when I called her about a stray dog I had found as I was walking into a hair salon to get a haircut. A precious Boxer dog with human intelligence, which showed through his beautiful brown eyes, who approached me as if to say, "Take me home." The hair stylist told me he was abandoned and the pound would be by soon to pick him up at the request of her landlord.

I called my wife to ask what she wanted me to do when all of a sudden; she started crying uncontrollably over the phone. It seemed she drove the 15-minute drive to the hair salon in only a few minutes, for she was there soon after, pulling the dog into our car and cuddling him as she drove home. I guess he got his wish…he was home.

Cancer was sweeping through her once beautiful body like a forest fire in high winds. Her emaciated, near lifeless corpse lay before me in the hospital bed, which had seen the downward, spiraling transformation of my beautiful wife, now lost to me forever.

I know she was in pain, I could feel it. I could see her twitching at times and I know I had to do something. I am her mate. I promised to protect her and she needed me now all the more, when she was at her weakest.

I had asked the hospital’s administration to pull the plug on her life support, so she could be spared the pain the cancer was inflicting on her. They stated it was against the law in that state to assist suicide, which included all forms of assisted death. I asked if I could do it and they said that I would be arrested and very likely put to death for murder.

Whether or not that is true, I must do it.

I prayed out loud, “God, if you are up there” I paused, “Or somewhere, please bring my angel home. She doesn’t deserve this!” After that, there was only silence.

I knew what I must do. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the wooden ornament she loved so much and placed it in her hands, cupping my hand around hers. I reached for the plug to disconnect her life support when suddenly; the power went out in the room. I saw her draw her last breath and passed away peaceably in her sleep. Just then, the room was filled with a feeling of great joy and peace like I had never known. God had shown up. He heard me! I cried vehemently!

As I stood there, I felt my wife embrace me in spirit. “Oh my God,” I said through my tears, I feel her love surrounding me. Goodbye my love! Oh God, I feel her presence!

The End

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