The tide of your breath rises and falls; the ventilator, the moon, that gathers and releases it.
Another night in the hospital. Me by your bed, gazing at you and remembering, as you lay sleeping and dreaming your dreams.
Memories come to me in silken images. You; in navy, rubber rain boots, the blue power ranger to your brother’s red, your sister’s yellow. You; walking and jumping in puddles, or sitting in your older sisters’ laps for story time and snuggles. You; running to the end of the field and back on cool summer evenings, a price for burping at the table. Ring tone radio, Make-A-Wish, school and yoga.
There is so much to tell of your life my dear one. Everyone loves you for your sweet disposition, your biting sarcasm, and your kind, kind heart; for your whimsical art, your love of superheroes (favorite – Wolverine), and wicked gaming skills; for the light of your smile.
It is our last night in the hospital sweetheart. I will finally keep my promise to take you home after this long, difficult year. You have chosen not to come back to this place where we’ve spent so much of your life. I am humbled by your courage, in awe of your strength.
Your birth into this world was at home, surrounded by your family. Without knowing, we knew. No hospital. Too many months there to come, too many years. And now, again, no hospital. Your decision this time, but too soon my love, too soon.
Twenty years times twenty would not be enough time with you. My Daniel, my beloved child,
Engraved on my heart is the feel of you in my arms; as a baby, a toddler, a teen and a man. Always my son, always, my son. Defying time, defying space, defying gravity.