Indisputably, Death’s supreme power lies mostly in its permanence.

She bade farewell to the last visitor, it had been a long sad day. They had come home straight from the church service while the others accompanied Naomi’s body to her final resting place.

The house was quieter now so she could hear her emotions clearly – Sorrow and Regret. The former was expected and the latter despite its futility amplified the former.

In the Seventies, people weren’t so careful about these things, love was all that mattered. If they had both known about their AS genotype would they have still gone on with the wedding? She tortured herself with questions requiring answers past their sell-by dates. Expired common sense.

The past is another country, even if she were magically issued a visa to travel back could she even consider a life without him? It was hard to imagine now, their paths seemed so intertwined after 25 years of marriage.  Still, how does one let go of a twenty-one year old daughter forever?

Oh! How she blamed herself, with each painful crisis she was taunted by the sickle-cell disorder that lived inside her daughter’s body rent-free. Her sweet Nana, so full of promise and with a radiant future bursting at the seams with dreams. What does one do with the memories of a child?

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