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A Life of Regrets
 
Text Box: On his deathbed at the hospice, Simon Simple, the inventor of The Quieter an attachable device that quieted crying babies into sleep; lay ravaged with loneliness. The fruits of his life’s work were all around the hospital in a vacuum of silence. At this moment, anything would be better than the silence inhabiting the hospice. The loneliness that Simon Simple was feeling far outweighed the pain that was consuming his frail thin cancer ridden body. Unable to adequately care for him at home any longer, his nurse, Guadeloupe Sanchez reluctantly called the hospital to have Simon Simple taken to the hospice. As valiantly as his sixty five year old body could fight, Simon Simple fought his removers. In truth, his efforts amounted to nothing more than that of a mosquito running into a giant spider web. The fight for escape would be futile. Guady, as her numerous friends and family called her was Mr. Simon’s sole employee at his mansion; Simon’s Place for the last twenty years of her life. In its heyday in the 70’s, lavish parties were thrown every weekend. The house now stood empty, and was as barren as Simon Simple’s soul. After Simon Simple was taken away, Guadeloupe let the silence that resounded through the mansion wash over her. In every room her cries could be heard and would get lost in its emptiness. Tears that are cried for lost souls they too find their way into the darkness to find that elusive peace we all search for in our lives. Tears as big as raindrops rolled down Guadeloupe’s face because even though Mr. Simon as she called him had never once in twenty years addressed her by name, she loved him. He had unknowingly saved her family from being homeless, and for that single act, Guadeloupe overlooked all his Text Box: shortcomings. Tonight she would light a candle for him and pray to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost souls for the salvation of Simon Simple’s soul. In his eyes, she had seen shadows of the Grim Reaper walking on his soul patiently waiting for his imminent demise. Simon Simple lay trapped somewhere between dream and reality. Snippets of the life he’d led came rushing back to him, and he felt as if he was caught in a windstorm, slowly being sucked into nothingness. Images, places and events he had long ago forgotten appeared to him as if they were occurring in that moment. Simon Simple by all accounts was a rich man, but in the things that mattered; he was a pauper. He had never been in love, he was childless and he had never made time for friends, only business associates. Now, in his hour of need he found himself all alone. A memory he didn’t even know existed came to life, and put into perspective somewhat the path of his life. There he was being born to a woman he would only know through photographs he found buried in boxes in father’s house. Her beauty shone bright like the lights that were blinding him all throughout the room. The love of his parents in that moment was so overwhelming to Simon Simple that in his current state of mind; he wasn’t aware that tears were streaming down his face. The nurses only knowing him as the gruff angry old man watched him in his last moments of life, and they too shed a tear for Simon Simple. Simon Simple had touched the hearts of people he would never come to know, and tonight when they went home to their lives, each one of them would be glad they had crossed his path. The joy in Mrs. Simple’s face at giving birth to their only child soon turned to a look of Text Box: abject horror. There was a busy of activity all around Simon Simple: doctors, nurses, shiny strange shaped equipments, and as fast as all the bustle had started, all was quiet again. The look he had seen on his mother’s face slowly made its way to everyone else in the room and they all looked the same. Grasping Simon in his arms, Mr. Simple walked over to his dead wife who only moments ago had given birth to their son, and he waited for a miracle. On this day, there would be no miracle in Room 125. The business of miracles was happening in the room next-door as a young mother after four miscarriages, had been granted the gift of life. In the breath of that moment, life was being given and one was coming to an end. Before her last breath left her body, Mrs. Simple touched Simon’s face, and in the moment before Guadeloupe Sanchez made her entry into the world her face was also touched, and a bond unknown to both of them had been formed. The woman who had cared for him for the last twenty years of his life had been there from the beginning. Overwhelmed again, Simon Simple lay unconscious in his bed drenched in his tears. One of the nurses had volunteered to stay late to wipe away the constant flowing of Simon Simple’s tears. She stayed with him until the closest person to Simon Simple came by to continue this vigil of tear wiping. The tears of his father had fallen into Simon Simple’s eyes, and Simon had his first taste of pain. He cried out in pain, and he didn’t stop crying for hours. His throat was swollen and thus too painful to cry anymore. He lay there in the hospital aching for the comfort of his mother’s warmth, the only love he would ever feel. The coldness of the room let him know he was all alone. His father had left, Text Box: broken man who soon after drank himself to death. Simon Simple’s eyes opened for a brief moment and the face he had just seen being born sat next to him wiping his face. He now realized as his eyes closed again that he hadn’t been alone in this life. His mother had seen to it that someone had been there to love and care for him. The tears stopped, and a smile came to life on Simon Simple’s face. Guadeloupe Sanchez sat there stunned at the sudden turn of emotions, but sent a silent prayer to Santa Maria for this small miracle. In his last breath, Simon Simple knew what love felt like again. His soul was now at peace, and the Grim Reaper knew on this day this soul wasn’t his to take. Simon Simple was on his way home to be with his mother. A month later when Simon Simple’s will was read the only people to hear its contents were his lawyer and Guadeloupe Sanchez. Simon Simple would never admit it in life, but in death he showed his appreciation for Guadeloupe by bequeathing his entire estate to her. There were days when he had seen her working so hard to keep his life, and home in order that he wondered what drove her to work for a man who barely acknowledged her. He knew she would take good care of his home because she had put so much of herself into it. Most times, the only sound in the house was the songs of Guadeloupe filling up its emptiness, and Simon Simple would always stop and listen. The voice of Guadeloupe would continue to fill Simon’s Place with life even in his death. Somewhere Simon Simple would still be listening. 8-14-05 5pm