Epitaph

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Did you ever imagine what death would be like? Apparently, many of us have but the truly astonishing part is how no one is prepared for it when it comes. Even a terminally ill patient is unprepared to face death, and likewise we still cry when a man on artificial breathing dies. Life always seems too short, there always seems to be more to do, maybe even so much more dreams left to achieve. To a five years old in her deathbed there isn't much she'd understand if you could find the words to explain, but for the child's mother there are a million things she'd understand but there isn't one good way to say it.

My grandchild, Ariana, will die on the 23rd of January. Yes, I am certain because that is the day we will give up trying to resuscinate the poor child and let the Lord take her soul to a better place. If it were my daughter, I think I would've been much weaker but I guess it is simply the fact of how people amaze us by tackling such situations. Some may call it euthanasia but in this part of the world, it is our choice. I know my Ria would've wanted to live, to go to school, learn to read books to Nana like Nana did for her; I know she would've grown up to be a talented and strong one like her parents, a young woman as beautiful as her mother and as brilliant as her father. Maybe she would've grown up to be a researcher just like her daddy or grown up to be the artist she would tell me is her dream to be. My Ria could've been the dream of her parents, their reason to go on progressing and achieving greater success: but all that seems to have halted, not because Ria said, 'No' but because she couldn't open herbright blue eyes to say, 'Yes'.

I am proud to have raised a strong child, one who was capable of saying, 'There is no point in regretting all that she couldn't do, mom- let's just try to make everything she can do in whatever time she has left.' and so, for those last few days, Ria would sit in her wheelchair and paint pictures to hang on the wall for her birthday, she would make lists of the people she wanted at her party and the food she wanted served. Once in a while, when she had the strength, we would go shopping for the decorations. So much work in hope for a better day, but most intriguing of all is how Ria sometimes seemed to have almost recovered in her joy and how we all had sometimes completely forgotten about what lay ahead.

The sun had eventually decided to peak above the horizon and the night's dark blanket was unfolding as the orange rays spread across the clouds and entered thru the curtains. This felt like the longest sunrise ever. My little Ria seemed no more alive than she had in the last three months. Her almost frozen body lay there with a greater mass of appliances attached to her than her own mass. Some slight guilty relief seemed to come to me- atleast she would no longer be attached to these, seemed like much more torture than her mother had to bear. I kissed her on the forehead - just what if she opened her eyes, or if her lashes twitched; just what if she whispered Nana again but no, it was a miracle unwilling to happen. I know she will be better off in the Lord's care. I placed the hand-made card beside her arm - she would've jumped off the bec to hug me if it weren't for her ill-fated health. 'Happy Birthday, sweety.', I couldn't help my tears. It was the 23rd of January and all night I sat here correcting the epitaph Ria had dictated for herself - it wouldn't be long before I'd see it engraved upon her eternal bed.
"The duke had a mind that ticked like a clock and, like a clock, it
regularly went cuckoo."
-- Terry Pratchett, "Wyrd Sisters"




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Points 1846
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There are a few issues here with "excess baggage" and a few grammatical errors but its really not my thing to sit here marking peoples offerings like homework (not to say thats not very important part of the writing process). I like to reflect on the message of the story, its power and if it has done what it set out to archieve. My verdict this time is yes. The writing for the most part is very mature, the story is heartbreaking and it really leaves you feeling hollow at the end. A very humbling story with a lot of potential. I would say proof read it a few more times too see if there are words you want to remove to make it flow more and prehaps review some of the points of the story to make it even more sincere as parts can come across as a little contrived (particularly the ending).




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Hello there!

I liked this. It's different. It's also full of emotion for a four-paragraph-long story, and it packs quite a few little descriptions in a short time. I was a bit confused though, when I read under the title before I read the story, that it was from the perspective of a sixteen year old, but her mind was that of a fourty-one year old. In the story, it made no reference at all to this. Maybe explain that a little more in the story, just to make sure the summary matches the story? It also seems to switch tenses a bit, which confuses the reader.

Now, onto my favorite part: the grammatical errors. Today, I'm going to make added corrections red, and things that can be removed green.

Apparently, many of us have#FF0000 ">, but the truly astonishing part is how no one is prepared for it when it comes.

The comma needs to be there because "Apparently, many of us have" and "the truly astonishing part...." are both independent phrases, and they're joined by a coordinating conjunction (for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so). You could also take out the but and place a period there instead. I'd also like to add, I really liked this. I never really thought of it that way, but it's so true.

Life always seems too short#FF0000 ">. #FF0000 ">There always seems to be more to do, maybe even so much more dreams left to achieve.

The little part I made green isn't really needed. To me, it sounds better without that little part, but that's just personal opinion. I also fixed a comma splice.

To a five years old in her deathbed#FF0000 ">, there isn't much she'd understand if you could find the words to explain, but for the child's mother#FF0000 ">, there are a million things she'd understand#FF0000 ">. Too bad there isn't one good way to say it.

See how long that sentence was? I love long sentences, but that was too many buts joined together in one sentence to sound right. You could fix it multiple ways, but this is probably the way I would fix it.

My grandchild, Ariana, will die on the #FF0000 ">23rd of January.

Some people say using numbers is better, and it might just be, but I learned that if the number can be spelled out in one or two words, you should spell it out. So that would make 23rd twenty-third. By the way, I love the name you chose.

If it were my daughter, I think I would've been much weaker#FF0000 ">, but I guess it is simply the fact of how people amaze us by tackling such situations.

I had to read this a few times for it to make sense to me. Maybe I'm just tired, or maybe I should wear my glasses more often, but it sounded a little confusing.

Some may call it euthanasia#FF0000 ">, but in this part of the world, it is our choice.

Again, the two phrases joined by the but can stand alone, so a comma is needed.

Maybe she would've grown up to be a researcher just like her daddy#FF0000 ">, or grown up to be the artist she would tell me #FF0000 ">she dreamed of being.

That original wasn't as smooth to read.

My Ria could've been the dream of her parents, their reason to go on progressing and achieving greater success: but all that seems to have halted#FF0000 ">. Not because Ria said, '#FF0000 ">no#FF0000 ">,' but because she couldn't open her bright blue eyes to say, '#FF0000 ">yes#FF0000 ">.'

Punctuation almost always goes inside the quotes. You could keep the comma after halted, but personally I like fragments sometimes. It emphasizes it a little more, catches the readers eye. I also love this part. It's so sad, but I love the way you describe it.

#FF0000 ">And so, for those last few days, Ria would sit in her wheelchair and paint pictures to hang on the wall for her birthday#FF0000 ">. She would make lists of the people she wanted at her party and the food she wanted served. Once in a while, when she had the strength, we would go #FF0000 ">also shopping for the decorations.

The added also just blends it all together. Another way you could fix this (also the way I would fix it) is:
And so, for those last few days, Ria would sit in her wheelchair and paint pictures to hang on the wall for her birthday, make lists of the people she wanted at her party and the food she wanted served, and, once in a while, when she had the strength, we would go shopping for the decorations.


So much work in hope for a better day, but most intriguing of all is how Ria sometimes seemed to have almost recovered in her joy#FF0000 ">, and how we all had sometimes completely forgotten about what lay ahead.

Already explained.

The sun had eventually decided to peak above the horizon#FF0000 ">, and the night's dark blanket was unfolding as the orange rays spread across the clouds and entered #FF0000 ">through the curtains.

Love the description too.

Her almost frozen body lay there with a greater mass of appliances attached to her than her own mass.

I just love this description, though it's so heartbreaking.

Some slight#FF0000 ">ly guilty relief seemed to come to me- at least she would no longer be attached to these#FF0000 ">. It seemed like much more torture than her mother had to bear.

At least is two words.

I kissed her on the forehead - just what if she opened her eyes, or if her lashes twitched; just what if she whispered Nana again#FF0000 ">. #FF0000 ">But no, it was a miracle unwilling to happen.

Again with the fragment to make emphasis.

I placed the hand-made card beside her arm - she would've jumped off the be#FF0000 ">d to hug me if it weren't for her ill-fated health.

Simple typing error.

'Happy Birthday, sweety.', I couldn't help my tears.

Accidentally put there, I'm guessing.

It was the #FF0000 ">twenty-third of January#FF0000 ">, and all night I sat here correcting the epitaph Ria had dictated for herself - it wouldn't be long before I'd see it engraved upon her eternal bed.

I loved the last part, no matter how tear-jerking it was.

Again, this was so sweet and heartbreaking. Just work on putting a little more punctuation in there. (:
~Lee-Anna
Please forgive me if I over-edit anything of yours.



You won't know the outcome of something unless you try it.
— manilla