50 Years Young

by Miesha Lowery

She buries her baby before her time, and she stands there over the casket asking God, “Why?” As she runs the tips of her fingers over the cold embalmed cheeks of her child, she turns her head to look away blinking back tears of regret. The sharp knife of a short life that ripped apart the soul of a woman who gave until she couldn’t provide anymore but her life. Her mother sniffs back her regret just for a moment to brace herself for the next how many years without her youngest child.  She walks away.

The woman next wails as if part of her world was shattered. The pain is too real for her to comprehend that this isn’t a nightmare; it’s a reality. Her eyes couldn’t focus on the cold body lying in front of her, but that didn’t matter because she knew her baby sister was gone. A sacred part of her soul was torn to shreds when her sister crossed into the afterlife, leaving her to walk this earth half empty. She attaches herself to the casket not moving an inch as she begs this reality to be a nightmare. Those around her escorts her away.

The young gentlemen with his baby girl in his arms stand over the casket in denial. He gently wipes a tear from his eye as his hand gracefully glides across the coffin. Taking his time as his hand memorizes the engrained wood that is holding his mother, his dead mother.  Memories flood behind his light brown eyes of the good days, the bad and the worse. But nothing compares to this moment, nothing.

Miesha Lowery recently graduated from the University of Phoenix in Marketing. She’s been writing creatively since her teen years growing up in New Jersey. She currently resides in Maryland with her foster beagle, Oliver. She is currently working on projects both within her profession and with other artists to further enhance her body of work.

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