Willem -- only days before he was stricken with HLH -- leisurely walking, straw in mouth, not a care in the world. A healthy 9 year old boy.

Monday, May 21, 2012

FIRST DREAM

Willem's dying body lay in my arms and I find joy in running my fingers through his hair and he speaks to me.  I smile and find an immeasurable amount of joy in realizing that, hey, Willem isn't dying after all; he's got long hair where once he had none. He's getting better!  There's hope again and my boy will be fine!

And then I awaken.  I awaken with the taste of joy still fresh on my tongue and the horribly bitter taste of reality quickly follows.

One deep sigh and a small tear in its wake.

Monday, May 21, 2012... I want so badly for my heart to fail -- anything -- I do not wish to live.


But I have to.  I have to.

1 comment:

  1. "Every death is a wake up call to live"
    Oprah to Shania Twain

    One day I turned the television on and those were the words I heard--and needed to hear.

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