Dancing With Him- A Short Story

I pace the room. I feel sick. first father... now mother...Don't let her die. I think.  The Doctor comes down the hall, and I jerk open the door, stepping in his path.
 "How is she?" I ask hopefully. The Doctor only shakes his head and goes out the door. I go down the hall to my mothers room and am about to knock when I turn around and go to my room. I grab my bible. A teardrop falls on the worn leather. I open I to a random page, and my eyes fall on this verse.
A time to live and a time to die... I close the bible. and look up at my Mother.
 "Mama. Are you going to die?" I ask, my face showing no emotion.
"I'm not going to die." She says without fear. "I'm going to dance." I must look at her oddly, because she then says;
"I'm going to dance with Jesus." feelings mix up inside of me. Equal parts of disbelief and sadness. I haven't believed in Jesus since Dad died, but after a moment, everything inside of me melts and I hug her, knowing my mouth can't form the words I want to say.
"I love you." she whispers to me. I don't say anything for a while, and I don't open my eyes for a while. When I do,I look at her, her eyes closed, her chest not moving to breathe. And at once I know Mother has died.
 The next few weeks are a blur for me. a funeral is planned, I go and stay at my Aunt's  house, and I stop going to school. I know a day where I will have to let go of mother is coming soon, but I occupy my days with life anyway. Often I think of how my Mother talked about how she  was going to walk me down the aisle. I don't share these thoughts with anyone.
My sadness must be more than shows, because after a few weeks, everyone seems to stop caring about all that happened. I know they don't mean to, but it hurts anyway.
Finally that blessed, sad day comes. Everyone stands in line to meet me and hug me, and I just stand there numbly. Songs are sung, and people talk about how amazing she was. I don't say anything whenever possible. The day passes by until it's time to see her go.
As they lower her into the ground, I think of how devoted my Mother was. Unlike Father, who gave way to drink and madness, My mother was a God-Loving woman who filled her days with joy. I think of how she had said; "I'm not going to die. I'm going to dance." and I think; That's good. Because when I die, I'm going to need someone to dance with.