Life in Three Weeks
2023 creative writing contest submission
Chisom Ogbobe

December 25, 1985 – 4:23pm…4:24pm…4:25pm… oh there’s no point! I gazed at my telephone praying to God I would receive a call from my daughters on this Christmas day. The only time they would call me is to ask me for money and after I have given them what they wanted I won’t hear from them till the next time someone needs something from me. Well, at least they called for something. I felt sick to my stomach and tears filled my eyes. Not even so much as one letter with only three words on it “Merry Christmas Mom” sent to my mailbox. Nothing. I looked over at the dinner table and all the food I had prepared, but my body will not allow me to move let alone eat. I was paralyzed with heartbreak. All of a sudden, the telephone rung and broke the silence and with quickness, I picked up the telephone hoping I would hear the soft voices of my girls. But instead, it was my doctor. He told my cancer had spread throughout my whole body and I had nothing more than three weeks left to live. Silence. I told the doctor to save the cliches. After all, they were not going to prolong the small amount of time I have left on this earth. The next few days were mostly brief walks around my little town remembering small things, such as the parks my daughters used to play in as little girls or the theatre everyone went to see popular plays. One morning I decided to go to the coffee shop I always used to go to before work. The smell gave me nostalgia and made tears start coming down my face. I ordered my usual drink and drank it slowly so I can enjoy it one more time before I…leave. That’s when I saw a face. A face that made me blush. He too was looking at me and walked over to me and introduced himself. His name was Phillip, and he was about my age. We connected with each other quicker than ever and we started hanging out. Phillip and I went on two dates together and each time he would surprise me with roses. Every chance he got he would gaze into my eyes and tell me I’m beautiful or gorgeous which made me get butterflies in my stomach like a teenage girl. We went to the fair together and went on small roller coasters while holding each other’s hand. We shared one big cone of ice cream that I know our doctors won’t approve due to our health, but we did not care at the moment. Some afternoons we would sit on my front porch and kiss and hold each other. Some people would say we are too old for things like that but I call it living your life to the fullest. Especially when you only had three weeks left to live. He made me feel safe and young again and even forget that I’m … dying. One night we went to a place where music was playing from a radio. A song came on and Phillip and I took each other by the hand and danced the night away. It was a beautiful moment that I did not want to end. That moment was the most alive moment I felt in years. That night I went home and looked at my calendar and realized my time was nearing. One morning it was unusually quiet, and I was feeling extremely weak and light-headed. That afternoon something in my heart was telling me to call Phillip so we could watch the sunset together on my front porch, so I did. He came with none other than roses, but these roses seemed so much brighter than the other roses had given me. There is something about dying that makes everything seem so much bigger and more beautiful than it is. We gazed at the sunset like it was our first time seeing it. As we were admiring the sunset, I felt my soul rushing to leave my body. It couldn’t wait to leave but I could. My eyes were mostly closed. I would think my last moments on this earth would be with my daughters and their families but instead it was with him. Phillip. I took his hand and gripped it firmly and with my last breath I said to him “I love you to the moon and back” then just like that the grip softened and I was gone.