A Mother's Last Prayer

A Mother's Last Prayer

The room was still, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint rustle of the curtains as the wind whispered through the open window. The smell of lavender and freshly bloomed roses filled the air, mingling with the subtle scent of aging wood. It was the same smell that had been in this house for years—a house filled with memories, laughter, and love.

Aaliya sat by her mother’s bedside, holding her fragile hand. Her mother’s once strong, gentle hands were now frail and thin, the veins clearly visible beneath the pale skin. It was hard for Aaliya to comprehend that the woman who had raised her with so much love and care was now nearing the end of her life.

Aaliya’s heart felt heavy in her chest as she gazed down at her mother. She had always been the pillar of strength in Aaliya’s life, the one person she could always rely on, no matter what. But now, the roles had reversed. Aaliya was the one offering comfort, holding her mother’s hand as she drifted closer to the unknown.

Her mother’s breathing was shallow, slow. The soft rise and fall of her chest barely noticeable. Aaliya tried not to let the tears fall, but it was impossible. She wiped her eyes quickly, knowing her mother had always told her to be strong, to never let tears fall over things that couldn’t be changed.

But this was different. This was her mother, the woman who had shaped her into the person she was, the one who had taught her the value of love, kindness, and patience. How could she not cry? How could she not be terrified of the idea of losing her?

“Mom,” Aaliya whispered softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Please… don’t leave me.”

Her mother’s eyelids fluttered slightly, and for a moment, Aaliya thought she had heard her. But the silence returned, and the old woman’s hand remained limp in hers.

Aaliya leaned closer, pressing her forehead to her mother’s. She whispered a prayer into her ear, the words a soft murmur that only the two of them could hear. She had always known her mother was spiritual, a woman whose faith was unshakable. She had often watched her mother kneel by the bed, hands clasped in prayer, her voice soft but steady, as if speaking to someone who had always been there, watching over her.

Her mother had lived a life full of sacrifices. She had put others first—her children, her husband, her family, her community. There had never been a moment when she had not been there for someone else, and even in her final moments, she was still giving—still offering everything she could.

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, and the quiet was almost suffocating. Aaliya reached down and placed her hand over her mother’s, feeling the faint pulse beneath her fingertips. The familiar warmth of her mother’s hand was fading, slipping away, but Aaliya held on, unwilling to let go.

“Mom… I need you. I need your strength,” Aaliya whispered, her voice breaking.

It was then that her mother’s eyes fluttered open, though it seemed like an effort. The pain in her eyes was evident, but there was something else too—a kind of peace that Aaliya couldn’t quite understand. Her mother had always been the strong one, the one who never showed weakness. But now, in her final moments, there was an incredible stillness about her, as if she had already made peace with what was to come.

Aaliya squeezed her mother’s hand gently, looking into her eyes. “Please, don’t leave me. I’m not ready. I need you.”

Her mother’s lips parted slightly, and her voice came out in a barely audible whisper. “My child…” she paused to gather what little strength she had left, “It is time for me to go… but know this—always live with love. Always be kind, even when it’s hardest. Remember that everything I’ve taught you… you carry inside you.”

Aaliya’s heart ached as she listened to her mother’s words. It wasn’t what she had wanted to hear. She didn’t want to hear her mother say goodbye. But she knew her mother was giving her something even more precious—a legacy of wisdom, love, and strength that she could carry forward.

Her mother’s hand tightened around Aaliya’s, just for a moment, before it loosened once more. “I will always be with you,” her mother said softly, as if reassuring Aaliya that even in death, she would never truly be gone.

Aaliya’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded, unable to speak. She didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly say to someone who had been the center of her world, the one who had taught her everything she knew?

In the quiet stillness of the room, her mother’s breathing became slower, more shallow. Aaliya could feel the weight of the moment—this was it. Her mother was slipping away, leaving this world for the next. And as much as she wanted to beg her to stay, she knew that her mother had made her peace. She had lived a full life, and now it was her turn to pass on.

Aaliya gently kissed her mother’s forehead, whispering, “I love you, Mom. Always.”

Her mother’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and in that moment, Aaliya felt a warmth she hadn’t expected. It was as though her mother’s love surrounded her, filling her up from the inside. She wasn’t gone—not really. Her mother’s prayer, her last words, would stay with Aaliya forever.

And with that, her mother breathed her last.

The room was still.

Aaliya sat there for a long time, holding her mother’s hand, feeling the weight of the loss, but also feeling the presence of her mother’s love that would never truly leave.

The End