The Thoughts Flood Back to Me in Endless Waves

I can’t get the last look my son gave me, before he passed over, out of my head. I fell asleep; and he was gone shortly after; Like he waited or something.

I can’t get the image of them working on him and seeing his little legs jump up and down on the table as they beat his heart for him; and the pink come back into his legs, and the hope I felt that he was going to make it; and then the utter despair of him not, and the Dr. telling me “I’m sorry, but he’s gone and we have to call it”, out of my head.

Friday, October 3rd, 12:11 pm; it was surreal.  You might as well have put a shot gun up to my heart, and pulled the trigger.

I still dream this day; sometimes repeatedly like a broken record.  I take medication for the dreams now, when they get to be too much.  The alternative is drinking myself into a coma, which doesn’t work for anyone, and hasn’t.

I remember them wrapping him up in the blanket and handing him to me; and I held him.  I remember my husband and kids coming in; and my husband falling to his knees and sobbing like his world had been completely ripped apart.  They took my kids out of the room;  my daughter was very small, but my son knew what had happened.

All of our worlds’ were ripped apart that day.

We held him for almost eight hours before they told us, “They HAD to take him”.  They put him on a gourney, and placed a pretty quilt over him that had crosses on it. They were so very gentle and respectful with him.  They let us walk down to the hearse with him, where they drove him away to the funeral home.

My husband whispered something to him in his ear.  I kissed him; and then he was gone.

We drove home in virtual silence.

The next day I placed an urgent call, telling my physchiatrist on the message that he HAD to give me something, because I was not going to make it without.

The next days coming were not good.

Funny the things you remember when you look back and realize, just how much you’ve lost. A chronic drinking problem and pill habit, and PTSD, are the only things I gained.

They would ruin my life.

J. Rounds ©2013 ~Peaces of Me

Karter

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