Waking Beauty

While she sleeps we wonder around the house. The passage of time is slow without action. Cooking books, reading meals or doing television certainly pushes the clocks hands faster, but in our minds, we remain stuck in transit. As we patiently wait for Mother's wake, we secretly hope for another chance to exchange a few words or share stories. 

From the corner of my eyes, I can see see her arm moving. She's waving. In her sleep I wonder? Oh mother! I roll my eyes. I look to the far corner of the room and see my grandma waving back and smiling. I remembered the days when Grandma used to wave her arm at me when I was still a child. My sister waves too and is ecstatic at mum's response. "She waved back!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe it!" She goes on and on, the smile on her face extending from cheek to cheek, like an athlete who just won his first race.

Like a moth to a flame, mum's wake gathers us around her. We surround her every side, like cats that gather around their first meal in days.  Starving for an exchange,  we fold ourselves in two or three, crouch our knees and sit in silence around the waking beauty. We watch in silence and smile.  No words. Do we resemble cats or dogs, I wonder...