rain falling gently now
I do not sleep
Freddie said “I love to hear the rain” and I said “I do too.”
To walk through his house again to smell the smell of his house and the redwood trees to visualize him pushing his walker down the hall stopping briefly at the living room door where I slept on the couch to say “Mom I am sorry about the things I said last night.” and I would answer “I am sorry as well for my behavior. I love you.” and he would go into the kitchen to make his breakfast or take his medicine.
To see him feed his worms; work in his tomato pots on the gorgeous deck, in the sun; eat watermelon with his friend, Ron, who came for an hour each Wednesday. He did not have many visitors dropping by because of his illness.
I wish I had not said “Stop playing with your phone and try to sleep”
The phone was his connection to the world; I should have known because it was my connection to the world as well, then as now. Oh, that hind sight could be zero and present sight could be 20/20.
to hear him call me during the night “Mom, I am going to be sick”
to hold the basin and clean it after he vomited
to pull up the syringes for him even though I simple could not bring myself to give him the shot, rescue shot, in the abdomen. I wish I could have but it hurt me to much to think about it. My fear of hurting him. He hated giving himself the shop but he needed it to live.
i could have learned on an orange.
I must tell all the stories before I forget. I have to write my way through this if I am going to live.