How to Escape an Assassin

The weekend passed, then it was Monday. Kali's funeral day. All of my distant relatives were there, Kali's classmates, and some of my childhood friends including Mirabai.

I chatted with Mirabai at the wake. It was the first time that I saw her in years, and she was breathtakingly beautiful. She had dark, espresso-colored skin without a single crease or blemish. Her long black hair cascaded below her hips. Her cocoa brown fox-shaped eyes were happy and youthful. Her mouth was always curved into a playful smile. She was short and slim, but her posture and confidence made her appear grand.

"I really missed you Milan, we should totally get together more. It sucks that like- when we finally see each other it's in this type of circumstance, you know? We seriously gotta catch up on everything," Mirabai said to me.

"I was thinking the same. Let's try to stay in touch more often."

She took my hands in hers. "I know this is a totally rough time for you, so like, I won't chat your ear off now. And like- you're the only person I know here, but I don't mean to just cling to you like some helpless puppy, you know? I would say hi to your parents but... they look extremely sad like they're on the verge of a breakdown right now."

"That's how I feel too, but maybe I'm better at hiding it," I told Mirabai softly.

"Anyway, talking to you is nice. It helps," I added. Hearing me say this, Mirabai beamed.

After the wake, there were the funeral processions. I was sorrowful, but I suppressed my feelings as best as I could. I was doing alright until it was time for my mom to give her remarks at the front of the church.

Mom wore a black veil that covered her forehead and most of her eyes, and a black cardigan with a dress that stopped at her ankles. She leaned over the podium, resting her hand against her cheek as she spoke.

"Firstly, thank you everyone for sending condolences, prayers, and all of the gifts. Your caring actions have helped ease the grief during this horrible time. Now, I'm going to begin with what I have written."

She took a shaky breath, then began. "The joy of being a mother is an indescribable, life-changing experience. It's like... it gives you a deeper, much greater purpose and everything finally makes sense. As a mother, you aren't just making decisions for yourself anymore. Now your thoughts, desires, ambitions... dreams, and worries... all orbit around the miniature version of yourself who you've released into the world.

"My first child, Milan, is very headstrong and independent. She always takes life by the helm. She's inquisitive and careful, with a wisdom far beyond her years. I've never had to worry about Milan, my first baby.

"But with Kali, my second child, it was rocky from the start. I experienced a lot of complications during the pregnancy and had two near miscarriages. I delivered Kali in an emergency C-section while only five months pregnant. The moment that I first held her... she was so tiny that she fit in the palm of a single hand. She was so precious, so incredibly frail. A fierce determination swelled in me at that very minute, that I would protect and raise my baby with every last ounce of willpower in me.

"Kali weighed only 2 pounds 6 ounces. She spent three months in the neonatal intensive care unit on a ventilator. When I finally took her home, our family was just elated, we all cried and laughed and threw a mini-congratulations party that the newest member of the Lee family made it out of the hospital. I'm sure Milan and my husband Al remember, I wouldn't let either of them so much as hold Kali no matter how much they begged. It wasn't until her first birthday that I finally let them.

"We got the diagnosis from the doctor early on that Kali had a Glycogen storage disease type 2, also known as Pompe disease. And they told us that her life expectancy would be two years. This made me even more set on raising Kali successfully. I expect every parent here understands, wouldn't you do anything for your child? I took an indefinite leave from my job at the nursing home so I could pour all my time and effort into raising Kali. I'm afraid I neglected Milan and Al during this time. But we all loved Kali, she was so sweet and bright-eyed and funny. That little girl had a big personality. She loved to dance, and sing, and play hide and seek. She loved the ocean. She followed her big sister Milan around everywhere. Everything Milan did, she wanted to do it to.