Darkness - Day 5

“Mrs. Daily, you have to make a decision.”

“I can’t kill my son.”

“I know it is a very difficult decision. But it has been six months. And there has not been any change in his condition.”

“He just won’t wake up.”

“Right, he just won’t wake up. No matter what we’ve done, he won’t wake up.”

“Is there another hospital we can take him too? Bigger and better than this one?”

“There are bigger, and there might be better, but I have been on the phone with some of the best experts in this country, and we have tried all of their advice. And yet….”

I seemed to have been in this darkness for quite a while. Who knows though. There are no clocks down here. And even if there were, there is no light to see them with.

I have lost most of my senses. There is nothing to smell, hear, see, taste. Most of my touch has left, I think. Or maybe I still have my senses, but there is nothing to smell, to hear, to see, to taste.

But, from time to time, there is something to touch. That is strange, for I sure thought that when I reached the core of darkness, there would be nothing – nothing at all. And yet, something bumps me. Something big. Something hard. Something dark.

The next time it bumps, I’m bumping back.

“Honey, we have to pull his feeding tube. We are out of money. We’ve already sold our car and house. Your Mom is getting tired of our entire family living with her. I just don’t see any other way.”

“One more day, Tom. Just one more day. Please?”

“You have asked for one more day for the last two weeks. No, now is the time. Nurse, can you bring those forms in here now please.”

“Oh Tom…”

Darkness. At one time it was so inviting. An escape from all the bad things in the world. But it took the nothingness of darkness to finally show me that its also an escape from all the good things in the world.

If I can get out of this place, I will not fear the light. I might not welcome it, but I won’t flee it. Light and darkness – two sides of the reality of life. To live, you must have both.

Now, how in the hell do I get out of here?

“How long will he live, nurse?”

“He is in a pretty weakened state. It is impossible to say for sure, but he probably shouldn’t last past tomorrow afternoon.”

“Tomorrow afternoon……”

Bump.

There it is again. I’m grabbing it this time. Man, its big and slippery. But I’m holding on. I’m holding on. Holding on to where though?

“Nurse. Nurse!!! He is having trouble breathing.”

“Yes ma’am, that is normal. Are you sure you want to be here? He looks like he only has a few hours left. If you want to step out into the waiting room, I can stay by his side until the end.”

“No, I’ll stay. I am his mother, you know.”

Another thing about darkness, is that when you are moving, you don’t know what direction. Where is your reference points to know if you are going up or down? Or just in circles?

But I’m holding on. Not going to let go. No matter how tired I get.

“Tom? Tom!!! His eye fluttered!!! Nurse!!!!!”

“That is normal, ma’am, as his body shut down.”

“Normal? … normal.”

Wait, I think I see something. Just a smidge way away, but it has been a long time since I have seen anything. And just knowing it’s a way, means something, doesn’t it?

“Tom? This time I know it was more than just a flutter. Look at his eye balls. They are starting to move. They haven’t moved since …. since that day.”

More light. Or more gray, which means more light. This has to be a good sign.

“Nurse!!! He’s waking up. Please come in here quick. He’s waking up.”

“Now ma’am.. Hey, he is waking up. I’ll go get the doctor.”

I’m getting so tired, but I have to hold on.

“Hold on Johnny. The doctor is coming. Just hold on.”

My fingers are slipping. I’m starting to lose my hold.

Wait, there is a hand coming out of the grayness. And there is another hand.

They are reaching for me. Hey, I recognize those hands. That one is my Mom’s. I know that scar. And that one is my Dad’s. His finger is all bent up. Over here! Here I am!!

“Hold him Tom. Hold him tight.”

“I’ve got him. We’ve got him.”

They have me. Now I can relax. I’m home.

“You’re back, Johnny. You’re back home”.

Home.

“Can you turn the light on Mom?”