Anniversary (3)

So there's something eerie about that kind of abrupt closure, when you're basically escorted at 4am from the hospital by the ward sister into a deserted car park, with your bag of snacks you used to pass the time and stave off hunger until the hospital catering outlets ground back into action as the day staff arrived for their shift, hungry for their breakfast.

No breakfast for me today, or from there ever again, perhaps. Always wanted to get the number of the sister who took care of me more than she needed to qualify for sainthood. She'd sat with me as I'd talked to my dad after he'd gone. She was touched deeply by the whole thing but I was so glad she was there. I look back now and realize she was reliving her own sadness as she saw mine. That was the greatest thing she did. She was a beautiful woman and we'd bonded through this tragedy. This was most likely the reason she'd walked me to the outer door that would actually release me from this maze of suffering. It's also our special bond that I felt that probably caused her to want to see the back of me, tie up the loose ends and get me off the premises. I just remember regretting that I hadn't kissed her mouth while we were closest together in that shadowy doorway.