Down By the Riverside

My age: 32

“Gonna lay down my burden, down by the riverside…”

The sun shone golden on Bull Creek’s water dancing over its shallow, limestone floor. Green leaves and white tree trunks lining the creek bed were picturesque.

The drive down Austin’s Highway 360 was beautiful that day. I was leaving work a little early that afternoon. A case worker had called from Hospice in Houston. It was the first time I’d heard anything in months about mom. In case you don’t know, when Hospice is involved it means the story is over.

The truth of that call seared through the beauty of that afternoon. I told my co-workers, my friends, what was going on and that I was leaving.

I went straight to a support group meeting. I ran into an old friend there who hugged me before I ever even got inside. I don’t remember what the meeting topic was or who said what, but I know that people loved on me and supported me.

Five minutes later on the highway, just before the beautiful little turnout for Bull Creek, the phone rang again. The warm voice of the case worker asked me if I were driving. Yes. Ok, pull over.

In my heart, I already knew. But I held off the truth for a moment in a sort of space where time did not exist. Just one more moment before I know for sure, just let me have this moment.

I told the case worker that I could pull down under the bridge into a most tranquil little spot. There, beside the creek, the words fell down.

She’s gone.