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A Struggle

July 11, 2010

Everyday is a struggle.  The closer I get to the time when we’ll be breathing longer than we had Michael, the harder it is for me to function.  Just seeing the days go by on the calender is horrible.  I can’t go back and I can’t go forward.   I just wish I could be with my son, hold him again, laugh with him.  Learn with him.

I just want to sleep through life, or pause life, or something! Anything to go back, to hold him. To change the outcome of that horrible day.  I keep going back to the 11th.  Seeing him in the hospital bed…touching his cold skin…feeling such imminence, heavy, horrible, terrible pain, hitting me in the stomach.  Saying over and over again, “he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead”…”Michael is dead. He can’t be dead…how can this be happening.  What did I do? What DIDN’T I do?”

I go back to holding his small lifeless body, wanting to warm him up, thinking he should be warm. He should know that I love him, and my warmth will make him come back to me. He didn’t…I can still hear myself wailing my grief, it echoing off the walls of the emergency room.  Holding him to tightly, thinking that would bring him back, that sheer will power would bring him back.  I can see other people coming in and out of the room, talking to me, but I don’t remember what was said…or what I said in response. I kept asking for Wayne, “where’s Wayne, I want my husband. ” “Why isn’t he here? ” Then I know I’m mad at the police for holding him in the apartment, questioning him like he was a criminal.  I just hold Michael tighter, and bury my head in his small wee body.  Trying vainly to bring him back, to wish with my whole being that he would start breathing again. But nothing works. I am not in control. And I am so full of pain, and horrid grief, I can’t remember much of the day…

The littlest thing takes me back to that day, those hours…Those horror moments.  (PTSD, anyone?)  When I’m living those moments again, it’s hard to breath, hard to think…hard.  As much as my pain is, so is my wish to have Michael back again…just for a moment, please…one extra long look at him sleeping, laughing, playing…eating…smiling. Anything…can’t I just have him back?

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