"Are you ok?", the paramedic screamed. I nodded. "We need to check her, son." There was no need... she was gone. He grabbed her wrist, trying to find a heartbeat, and sighed heavily while his stare went blank.
...
"This is RAID 800.75 FM! The time is 8:15 am, time for you to wake up, sleepy bird!" While a big yawn poured out of my mouth, I looked at the ceiling and the absence of the scent of burnt toast filled the air. "Happy birthday, son!", dad yelled. "Yeah, yeah..." They don't matter anymore; not without her. "Ok, mom, you're right," climbing out of bed, I yelled back, "Thanks, dad."
"I'll try to smile a little today for you, mom," I walked out the door, turning my music player as a distraction, but I know, she knows, it's of no use. The bus was late, as always, "I'll try to be patient, I know, mom."
"Are you sure about that theorem? I'm not convinced of the validity of your mathematical proof", the Professor threatened, with his usual pompous stare. "I know you have proven the reverse of this", I replied, staring back. "But your assumptions are too strict. If we loosen the restrictions, my proof is valid. Believe me, it's correct." Her stare filled me with acceptance. She knew I was right; I knew I was right; that's all that mattered.
Afterwards, at the bar, some friends and family gathered for a brief drink. "Good job on defending your work, bro!", a friend cheered. "Thanks", I replied. "Oh, don't be modest! You looked at the Professor right at the eye and basically said his long-proven theorem was outdated. You have balls, man!", he insisted. "He got that from our mom", my brother replied. I felt a little smile come upon my face. Then, perhaps out of too much alcohol in his blood stream, my friend slurred out, "Have you ever thought what would it be like if your mom would still be around?".
The silence in the table woke up everybody for their drunken daze. "No. And to answer your other question: Would I bring her back If I had the chance? No, I wouldn't", I calmly said back. The oxygen inside the bar went down a couple of litters, as everybody gasped simultaneously. "I'm proud of who I am, and am such because of her and what happened to her. To want her back would be an insult of her doing, of her sacrifice. She gave her life for me to be who I am. What mother hasn't done the same thing for her son?"
...
As I looked at my mother's blood-stained face, she looked upon my tear-filled eyes. "Don't worry, baby. You're ready. Make me proud."
"I will, mom."
