a moment of silence

It looked like an ordinary bloody piece of meat. Well, if I didn’t know better. Any unsuspecting person would’ve guessed the same.

I looked over the photo at Mum. Her face was a cold, pale-white; her consciousness, a distant grasp. It almost seemed as though life had escaped from her. Only upon closer look will one notice her quiet and slow breathing through the oxygen mask.

It was 4.30pm.

Mum had just survived a surgery that completely removed her womb and ovaries so that her weak tissues could be stitched up to her stronger ones. This was to permanently arrest her urinary and bleeding problems. There was nothing wrong with her organ - it was perfectly healthy. But it was ‘in the way’ and further complications may arise in future should it not be removed now.

“Furthermore, it no longer serves a function,” the doctor had explained prior to the surgery.

Strange. Sometimes facts can sound terribly cruel.

“This was where we all came from…” Sis remarked suddenly and we both gazed at the photo. Unwittingly, I found my hand touching my abdomen.

And we kept our silence, reflecting on the function it had served.