[ WP ] A mortal mother , close to death , pays a visit to her immortal son .

`` I carried you in my arms once.'' She says softly. `` Do you remember?'' 
 
 
 `` Yes mother, I remember.'' He remembered everything, every line on her face that had grown with each passing day as his own skin stayed smooth, every time she had looked in the mirror and sighed at the travesties that old age had wreaked upon her. Every son thinks his mother beautiful, but no words could sooth away the glances she gave herself. 
 
 
 `` I came up this hill with you.'' 
 
 
 `` I know mother.'' The shaking hands when she had learned that her son would never die, and the black that she had worn when her husband died. Some would see eternal life as a gift, but his mother counted her years with deaths. The lines in her face grew deeper as she watched him with women. She knew he would outlive them all. She knew he would be alone in the end. 
 
 
 Five white trees crown the summit of a green hill. Between them a river starts. 
 
 
 `` Every mother hopes her son will live forever. I suppose you will now.'' 
 
 
 `` I suppose I will mother.'' She had carried herself straight-backed through humiliation. She had endured the second marriage so that her son might be educated. She had endured the kicks and the slaps and the words that bit deeper than any of them. She had grown to love her second husband and she had worn black when he died, too. 
 
 
 The path is rocky and overgrown. It has not been trodden for many years, but his long legs help her aged ones over the stones and dips that block the way. 
 
 
 `` Will you remember me when I am only dust?'' 
 
 
 `` I will remember you mother.'' She brought him here when he was a child. It had been dawn and the light was rising across the city. The light had hit her and the lines were wiped from her face. She had smiled at him and they had shared cake together, perching on the rocks overlooking the whole world. 
 
 
 `` I feel like a Queen up here.'' She had laughed. 
 
 
 `` You are a Queen, mother!'' He had been a lot younger then. He had n't noticed the bruises on her arms then. `` You're beautiful!'' Her answer was ripped away by the wind, but he remembered the shaking head. 
 
 
 She trips now and he catches her. He swings her round and holds her on his back. Old bones do n't weigh much after all. He continues up the hill. 
 
 
 `` You have to see it from the top.'' He says. `` One more time.'' 
 
 
 `` I carried you in my arms once.'' She says softly, as though already in a dream. `` And now you are carrying me.'' 
 
 
 `` You have to wait till we reach the top, mother. You have to wait till then.'' The words catch in his throat. 
 
 
 `` Will you remember-'' She sighs. 
 
 
 She is dead when he reaches the summit. He places her by the river on the green hill. Every line in her face is gone. She could be a young woman, waiting for the dawn so that her life could begin. He kisses her forehead. 
 
 
 `` I will remember.'' 

