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I believe that death occurs to some people while living. I have come to believe this as a result of watching my mother slowly die emotionally and feeling myself die with her. There’s only one thing that I can think of that’s more painful than watching someone you love die. And that is to watch them die a thousand times. I had just arrived at school and feeling a little excited. I was in third grade, Mrs. Chaney’s class. She was my favorite teacher up to that point in school because she reminded me so much of my mother. They were both in their mid to late 30s, very smart and beautiful, they were both very playful, and they both had this look in their eyes when they talked to you, only my mother’s was more intense. My mother would sometimes sit us on the floor and tell us stories about when she was a little girl, some were very funny and some were not so funny. She told jokes sometimes too or just played with us. She was so alive she moved me inside, and I could sit at her feet forever looking at her beautiful smile and feeling the glow that I always felt when she looked at me. She would get that look when she talked about Martin Luther King Jr., “Martin Luther” she called him. She would get so excited, when talking about him that she would light up the room and sometimes the entire house. We’d all be sitting there immersed in this beautiful spell that she loving cast upon us.
Approximate Word count = 1051
Approximate Pages = 4.2
(250 words per page double spaced)
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