Some how I had a flashback of the hospital room with Angelo. Strange how it starts with two but you know there is someone else present. It’s sickness lurking about looking for a way in. Sickness cannot reside in places where love and faith dwell. I can tell that illness is frustrated today and has to vacate the premises. It’s a losing battle today because the one in the bed and the one bedside are on one accord. We don’t talk much now. He is sleeping maybe 22 out of 24 hours now. The physician claims this too is a sign. As I look back on it, I was just standing watch while he slept. Somebody has to stand watch and why should anyone have to fight, sleep, and watch at the same time? The words, “Be there for somebody,” keep ringing in my ear. I tried my best.
I don’t visit this place in my mind often but it seem like I still have pretty vivid memories. The other day I saw a picture of his tombstone and it shook me. Why was my first thought one of failure? I couldn’t save him. What kind a parent am I? I had to remember that life and death don’t belong to me. If I had it my way, things go a bit different. Of course, I don’t stay in the dark place of fault, guilt, and blame long. I know I did my best. I could do no more. I’m just glad that every time he looked over in the chair and called my name, I was there to respond. People don’t always need you, but when they do, try to be there. It hurts my stomach and heart at times but we keep it moving. I appreciate all the love and support even three years later.
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