When The Day Comes It Permanently Departs
The day my mother died, I hugged her still warm yet lifeless body, gently laying my head on her chest.
Where does the soul go when it leaves the body? When the heartbeat and pulse forever resigned?
Death only justifies that the physical body is just a vessel.
Does the self still exist when it has taken another form?
"Life is a one big conspiracy,” my mother’s doctor said.
From the day she departed on a Monday afternoon at 3:45 until her body was completely turned into ashes by Sunday morning, these are the few memories I kept of her, never letting go of that surreal week of sad final parting.
My January sorrow.