by Randa Lynn
I love you- Mommy
I place the book mark in the journal and close it. My throat is dry from reading, but I’ll read every last page. It’s the only thing I can do that I feel like is helping her in any sort of way. Nothing has changed. We’re at the twenty-four hour mark with no progress.
The doctors are all but optimistic. “She has some brain activity,” they say, “but the longer she’s in this coma, the meeker the outcome looks.”
I don’t give a shit what they say. She has no choice but to pull through. Her parents said to give it all they’ve got. They refuse to lose her, too.
I bring my eyes up to Charlie, her chest rising and falling with the ventilator. The monitors beep, letting me know her heart is still functioning.
Her parents, Lizzie, and Stetson left a few hours ago to get some rest. Their jet-lag, on top of everything else, has drained them. I’m not leaving, though. Not unless I leave with her.
“Would you like a water?” the nurse asks, holding her very pregnant belly.
“That would be great. Thanks,” I reply.
I reach up and hold onto Charlie’s cold hand. “Come on, baby. Wake up. I need you.” I bend down, brushing my lips across her knuckles.
The nurse brings me a water back and I take a sip, quenching my dry mouth.
They’ve succumbed to the fact that I refuse to leave her, so every nurse has gone against protocol and let me stay in here as long as I don’t cause trouble. I’ve been sitting here, motionless, for hours. It’s amazing how sitting can drain a person, but it does.
I lean up, laying my head on the bed beside Charlie, and I doze off.
A light tap on the shoulder brings me out of my sleep. I lift my head up and rub the sleep out of my eyes. “Slayter,” Charles whispers. “Take this.”
He hands me a coffee and bagel, which I graciously accept. “No change,” I say, hanging my head in defeat.
“I know. I’ve been in here for almost an hour. That day nurse is a nice one, going against visiting hours for you and me.” He smiles. “And no change is better than worsening,” he assures me. His eyebrows lower as he looks at me. I can see the concern washed all over his face. “You need to get some rest, son.”
“I just woke up.”
He sits on the end of the bed, crossing his arms across his chest. “I didn’t say sleep, I said rest. You can’t get that at this hospital.”
I take a sip of my coffee and place it on the floor beside me. “With all due respect, sir, I won’t get any rest until I know Charlie is going to be okay.“ I grab her hands. I need to feel her. I need to touch some piece of her to know she’s still here. With me. Fighting.
“Slayter,” he says, his voice low. “I know she’s dealt with so much since her accident. I know she was depressed. I thought she was taking her medicine. And she always seemed like she was okay when I saw her.” He shakes his head. “I guess that’s my mistake for not being the father to her I should have been. I should have paid more attention to her.”
“I understand that.”
“I’ll be honest. Phoenix’s death, and the death of the Charlie I knew for twenty-three years, messed with me more than I care to admit. I couldn’t get past the fact that she couldn’t remember me. Remember every memory we had before that moment. When she was growing up, she wanted to do everything with me. She was my sidekick. But since she had the wreck, I’ll admit, I’ve been sort of distant.” Tears form in his eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I hope I just have a chance to make it right. Be the father she needs.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I tell him.
He laughs quietly. “It’s hard not to be. I should thank you, though. You’ve been there for her more than anyone. Thank you for that. Thank you for accepting her as she is. Thank you for loving my Charlie Girl.”
“Yeah.” My voice fades. “I just hope my love is enough to make her come back.” He slaps my shoulder before walking out of the ICU cubicle.
I look over to Charlie. Gripping her hand, I wish so badly she would squeeze mine back. My chest aches, physically ripping apart because I’m so scared that this is all I’ll get. Her—lying in this hospital bed, can’t be the last piece of her I get. That’s not enough. Not nearly enough. I reach up and whisper in her ear, “I’m not done loving you yet, Charlie.”
I pick the journal back up and flip it to the next entry. After taking one final breath, I dive back in to the memories that are Charlie and Phoenix. And when I see the short and sweet scribble, I can’t help but smile in spite of my pain.
December 25, 2007
I just had the most amazing Christmas present ever. YOU SAID MAMA!
I’m still crying. I love you.
Hugs, Mommy.
We’re on day three of no changes.
No progression. No regression.
I’m not giving up. I refuse to give up. I’ve made a dent in Charlie’s journal. I’ve read every single entry up until Fourth of July 2008. Some entries have made me laugh. Some have made me choke up. But one thing always holds true. Every single thing I’ve read only reiterates what I already knew was true—Charlie was the best mother Phoenix could have ever known in his life.
She was kind, caring, loving.
I take a sip of my coffee. The nurses have been keeping it on-hand for me since I refuse to leave. Everyone—from Lizzie and Stetson, to Charles and Kathy, to the nurses—have practically begged me to go home and sleep.
I don’t need sleep. I need Charlie awake.
I pick up the journal, rubbing my thumb over the outside. It’s warn leather. Engraved in the front it is an Ernest Hemingway quote about being destroyed, but not defeated.
I feel the words. They consume me. The power of those words wrap around me like a vice. “Charlie,” I whisper. “You’ve been destroyed, but you haven’t been defeated. Wake up.”
I sit there for several minutes, holding her hand with one hand while gripping her journal with the other. I just watch her. Her short blonde hair is fanned around her head. Her nostrils flair slightly with every breath she takes.
I crack the journal open and rub my hand across the page. Then I start reading…
July 4, 2008
We went out and watched the fireworks today. It was your first time. Last year you were so sick I kept you in. Tonight, though, I decked you out in your red white and blue with your white little Chucks to watch the Independence Day fireworks at the river.
You loved it. I’m so glad you did. I was nervous the loud booms would scare you. Thank goodness for noise reducing headphones.
Every time the fireworks would go off, those bright lights booming in the night sky, you would clap and cheer. You were so excited. So happy.
It made me happy.
It’s crazy to me that you’re not even a year and a half yet, but I have no idea what my life was like before you were born.
I don’t remember what a full night of sleep feels like, but I don’t even care. Waking up with you is the best thing ever.
Having you was the best surprise of my life.
Today is Independence Day, but every day since I found out about you has given me freedom. Freedom from my past. Freedom from bad choices. Freedom from myself.
I know you won’t remember this day, but I will. And I’ll remember just how carefree and happy you were as sparks flew in the July sky.
Happy 4th my Phoenix.
Love always, Mommy.
Beeping.
I can hear the constant beeping of a monitor, or something. I try to open my eyes, but everything is black, dark, and lonely.
Am I alive, or am I dead?
Where am I?
I hear voices. Faint, distant voices echoing in my head.
I can’t make out who or what. I can’t make out anything but the mumbled sounds.
I try to speak, but I can’t. Something is blocking my airway. Fire burns down my throat, and I swear I’ve been down this same road before.
I try to cough. My
throat scratches against something rough.
Is Phoenix here? “Phoenix!” I try to yell, but nothing comes out of my mouth except a gargled sound.
I try so hard to open my eyes, but something stops me. Pain? My throat burns with fire as something is pulled out of it. Am I pulling it out?
What is this thing? I cough some more, but the thing in my throat is gone.
I try to speak again.
I can’t.
And then I hear it. That voice. That voice that’s been the only calm in my ever-present storm.
I’m not dead. I’m alive. Or either I’m dreaming.
Why would he be here? After what I did?
“Charlie,” he whispers. I can feel the heat of his breath sweep across my face, and it’s enough to make me expend all of my energy to open my eyes. That face. Those gray eyes are right there, inches from me. I can feel it. All I have to do is…
“Open your eyes for me. Look at me. Come back to me, Charlie. I’ve got you.”
And that is the last thread of strength I need to crack open my eyes.
Tears brim his eyes as he stares down at me. His hair is wild and unruly. His face is days, weeks, past needing a shave. His eyes, those stone gray eyes, are dark like the clouds rolling in before a storm.
My tears start to mirror his own. I have no clue how long I’ve been out. I have no clue who else is in this room. All I see his him. And all I know is, I just crushed his world, along with everyone else’s who stuck around to love me. Tears continue to spill over my lashes as I see the pain and agony washed over his face. Pain I caused because I couldn’t handle my own. What did I do?
“Hey.” His voice is soft. He bends down, brushing his warm lips over mine. His warmth spreads over my body, and the enormity of what I have done covers me. “I’m here. Your family will be here in a moment. Hang tight, baby. I’m going to help you.” Slayter’s lips graze my ear as he whispers, “I’m going to help you remember. Just please, please hold on until then. I won’t let you leave me. I’ve got you.”
The moment the hushed words fall out of his mouth, my parents, Lizzie, and Stetson walk in. The nurse stands to the side, watching me protectively.
Their pain, back then and now, is all because of me.
But why am I here? Why am I not with Phoenix?
Phoenix, I try saying. It’s no use. Everything starts becoming too much. Being here. Not being there. Life. Death. Pain. Sadness. Guilt.
I want Phoenix…
My heart rate starts beating rapidly, slamming against my chest cavity. Everyone’s soft voices become blurred, along with my vision. It’s hard to breathe. I struggle to speak. But I can’t. My head pounds with each erratic beat of my heart.
The nurse rushes to my side. More doctors and nurses rush to all sides of the bed. “We’re going to have to sedate her and put her back on the ventilator again.”
I see Slayter’s face go pale from behind the busied medical team. He tries saying something, but I can’t make out anything he says.
Everything tunnels in.
And darkness consumes me…
“Mommy! Mommy!” Phoenix yells. “Can you come play with me?”
I smile. My God he is beautiful. “You bet, little man.”
He giggles. “I bet you can’t catch me.” Placing his hands on each side of his head, he sticks his tongue out, taunting me.
“Oh, really?” I ask. “You better get to running! I’m going to get you.”
His big eyes go wide, and he starts to run towards the swing set and slides.
I chase after him, not running full speed, so he thinks he’s super-fast.
Once he gets to the slide, he starts to climb up. He attempts to go as fast as his little legs will allow, but I catch up to him. I grab him at the waist, swinging him over my shoulder before bringing him to the ground. I tickle him on his ribs, under his arms, on his collar bone. He squeals, “Stop, Mommy. Please! I’m gonna pee pee on myself!”
I stop, scooping him up. I give him a big hug, breathing in his strawberry shampoo smell. “I love you, Phoenix Blake.”
Wrapping his little arms around my neck, he whispers, “I love you, Mommy. I miss you when I’m gone.”
With Phoenix still in my arms, I walk over to a nearby bench and sit down. I brush the wild curls out of his face. “What do you mean, you miss me when you’re gone?”
He looks out at the pond, watching the ducks slowly swim along the surface. “I know you love me, Mommy. I saw it every day. Even when you forgot me. I still knew.”
“What?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Mommy. I saw you. Every day I saw you when you’d cry. Sometimes you’d smile. I really love when you smile.” He pauses. I give him a sad smile back, because my heart is hurting hearing him talk about this. “Like that. Except when you were with him, your smile was big. You were happy. You didn’t cry as much.”
“When I was with who, Phoenix?” I look around the play area, but no one is here but us.
“With Slayter. You were happy. You can be happy, Mommy.”
“But Phoenix, I am happy. I am so happy.” I wrap my arm around him and pull him in closer to me.
He drops his head in the crook of my arm. I comb through his curls with my fingers. “You don’t have to be sad anymore.” His whisper is so faint, but I have no trouble making out his words. I want to hold onto him forever, never letting him go.
“I’m not sad,” I tell him. I pick him up, and sit him in my lap, so I can see him. So he can see me. “I’ve never been happier. I have you now, don’t I?” I touch my index finger to his nose. He giggles.
“But you don’t belong here, Mommy.” His little nose, speckled with a few faint freckles, scrunches up.
My heartbeat falters in my chest as he stares at me. “Of course I do. I belong with you.”
He reaches his little face up and gives me a kiss on the cheek. A kiss so innocent, a touch so entwined with love. “But you belong with him. You can’t have me, Mommy. I’m supposed to stay here at this playground forever. So I can watch over you.”
Tears start rolling down my face. I want to stay with Phoenix. I can’t let him go. Not again. Not after I’ve spent every day since I lost him dying to remember just one piece of memory involving him. I finally have him in my arms, and it will break me to let him go again. “I don’t want to let you go.”
“It’s okay, Mommy. I want you to go.” He reaches his two tiny hands up, grabbing each side of my face. “Don’t feel sad for me. I love you so much, Mommy. I want you to be happy. You’ll never forget me again.” He shakes his head as a smile spreads across his face. His crooked little baby teeth shine, and I can’t help but to smile back at the gorgeous little boy in front of me.
All I ever wanted in life was to remember. Now he’s here—in my lap, in my arms—and if I let him go, that’s it. How do I know I’ll never forget this? The way his deep little voice rasps as he talks. The way his one little dimple shines in his left cheek when he smiles. Those light peppering of freckles along the bridge of his nose. The way his curls blow on the wind.
“You said I was your Phoenix, Mommy. That I helped you get up from those ashes.” I nod my head in agreement. “You can do it, Mommy. Get up again. Wake up. Everybody misses you.”
“But I miss you…”
“You’ll always miss me. But I’ll always be right here playing. I love this place, Mommy. My friends are so nice.”
He looks out towards the monkey bars. The park is no longer empty. A herd of kids are playing, laughing, and squealing from excitement.
“Those are your friends?”
He nods his little head. “Their mommies miss them, too. They told me.”
“They all… You all…”
“We’re not gone, Mommy. We’re all alive. The people that love us, we’ll always be alive in their hearts.”
Tears cascade down my face from the words he’s speaking. They’re shooting straight through my heart, smashing through that wall around m
y soul, successfully making it crash down in a mighty force. “Can Mommy just ask you one question?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I wrap my arms around him, needing to feel the comfort he brings to my racing heart. A comfort I’ve never known. “Was I a good mommy? Did we have fun?”
He smiles. And his smile is so big, my heart swells, bursting with love. “We always had so much fun. Mommy. Do you remember the tire swing? You pushed me so high. And I held on tight like you told me. I loved the tire swing. You are the best Mommy in the whole wide world. I’m so glad we got to play today.”
I blink, bringing with it my last tear. “I am, too,” I whisper. I kiss him on the top of his head. “I’m going to miss playing with you.”
“But you don’t belong here, Mommy. You belong with him.” He points behind me, and when I turn around, my breath gets knocked out of me.
It’s me…
I’m lying there, tubes going into my throat, breathing for me. Slayter, grasping on to my hand with one hand while holding a book with the other.
“Go back, Mommy. He misses you.”
My gaze goes from Phoenix back to Slayter. From Slayter back to Phoenix.
My heart is torn. One piece in this angel park, the other piece in that hospital room.
“If you go back, you can have us both, Mommy. I promise.” I look down into his green eyes, mirroring my own. “Do you remember what you used to always tell me, Mommy?”
“No, sweetie. What was that?”
“You always told me, ‘If you ever get sad, close your eyes and take a big breath. Remember that your heart is my heart. Your home is my home. And then you’ll smile.’”
I close my eyes, placing my hand over my chest, and repeat, “Your heart is my heart. Your home is my home.”
He gently places his hand on my cheek. The warmth of his small little touch wraps around me like a veil of comfort. He releases his hand and gets off of my lap. He whispers, “Keep repeating it, Mommy. If you keep repeating it, you’ll finally go to where your heart is.” His voice gets more distant with each passing second. “I love you, Mommy. You’ll never forget me. I promise.”