What She Left Behind

“It’s yours,” I said. “Keep it.” 

My eyes sparkled tears as she laid eyes on a huge diamond ring.

“Thanks honey!” She said, looking through the rest of the jewelry.

We picked up a few clothes to place into a black garbage bag. “Most of this can go to rubbish,” I said as she folded another summer dress to place into a bag at full capacity.

I looked around the apartment that no longer resembled my past. Besides the load of familiar clothes in bags, I couldn’t imagine staying in a place I used to call home.

“honey, can you get me some water before you go?” My wife picked up a box to give to me. “There’s a bottle in the refrigerator the last time I checked.”

I stepped over a pile of bags to walk into the kitchen. The dripping of the spigot, which was meant to get fixed a while ago, sounds like a lost tune. I brushed against the peeling paint on the wall and the discolored surface tops as I opened the refrigerator to find a plastic bottle with water and several unopened jars of baby food.

That was what my mum had left behind in her dying days.

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