Rough Day

Mila

A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I hoped the men had had a chance to say goodbye.

When I left the room, I walked to the nurse’s station and recorded the time of death and the cause. I logged the file, and I excused myself.

In the restroom, I closed myself into a cubicle and finally let myself fall apart. Sobs racked my chest, and I doubled over, wrapping my arms around myself as if I could keep it together if I did it physically. I’d known this was going to happen. I didn’t know how, but I’d known.

Those men would never be the same. I had been lucky enough never to lose a parent, but I knew from what I had seen that the loss of a loved one changed you forever. I had even seen it in Ben, although he’d barely known his dad. Those three men, once they handled their grief in their own way, wouldn’t ever look at life the same.

Maybe they would become bitter. Maybe they would blame themselves. Or maybe, they would celebrate the long life of the woman they’d lost, reme