The Last Box

The box was sitting in the corner of the loft. It was by itself now. The rest of the loft was empty. This was the last box. It looked lonely just sitting there. The lid had not been taped closed as on previous boxes. The handwriting on the outside was mine. In huge black, bold letters were the words, “ J’s Old Clothes.” The clothes inside were not really old. They were just too small. Jackson was born too small. They said at the hospital he was going to be small because he was going to be born early. It took me a long time to get used to the fact that my precious baby would not be in my body for the full nine months. He would not be a week late like my other son, Hunter. I needed more time. More time to prepare. But, time was not on my side. 

Jackson was born a month early. He was small like they said he would be. He looked so tiny in the hospital when I finally saw him. I got to hold him and love him in the hospital and I was so thankful that I had the chance. I couldn’t wait to take him home. The wait was unbearable at times but all I could do was wait, hope and pray. I did all of those each and every day for months. I prepared his nursery with the usual things. His crib looked so small, big and empty at the same time. I used to come into his room at night and just look at the bed and be obsessed by the curtains hanging on the window. There was only one window which downed Superman curtains. I chose Superman because Jackson was my little Superman. He fought to be here and in the end he saved me like Superman probably would from myself. 

I was beyond excited when Jackson came home. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I just lied in bed thinking and planning and even pinching myself a few times to remind myself that it was real and it wasn’t a dream. That morning, Shane, my husband, put in the car seat in the back seat of the car next to Hunter’s. I smiled looking at the car seats side by side in our small Subaru car. I thought that we will need a bigger car for us soon. 

Shane drove us to the hospital. Hunter stayed with my parents at their house a mile away. I smiled the whole way over there and nervously drank from a take out cup of herbal tea. I made small talk with Shane about our lives and how it was all going to change more, for the better in a few short hours. My hands were wet with sweat by the time we arrived in the visitors parking lot. My body didn’t move when Shane came around to my passenger’s door and opened it. My body had suddenly become too heavy to move. I tried to move my leg to the edge of the seat and it just would not move. I looked up at Shane who was waiting for me to move.

“Are you okay?” He said.

I opened my mouth but no sound came out. I tried again. I closed my lips and opened them again to speak. I was relieved to hear the sound of my voice.

“I think so.” I said.

“Olivia, it’s okay. We can take our time. A few more minutes won’t hurt.” Shane said as he grabbed my left hand and gently pulled me out of the car. 

“Thank you.” I said.

Shane held my hand until we got to the entrance of the hospital a few feet away. The doors automatically opened and we stepped inside. I waved to the security guard sitting a few feet from the door and signed in as we had done what seemed like a million times before. The security guard smiled and pointed to the elevators to the left of him as he had done several times. I was thinking that this would be our last ride on this elevator to floor 8 where Jackson was waiting for us. I said a silent prayer on the way up squeezing my husband, Shane’s hand. 

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Boutte. Jackson is almost ready to go home. Are you ready to see him?” The nurse said. 

We followed the nurse down the hallway to a small room where Jackson was waiting in the arms of another nurse we hadn’t seen before. She was a young nurse with long red hair and her face was peppered with freckles. She was sitting on a reclining chair holding and talking to Jackson. She smiled when she saw us and I smiled back. I couldn’t wait to hold Jackson again. My arms ached for him. Now, today was the day we would go home. I was more than ready. 

After some paperwork, and instructions from the doctor and the nurse we were ready to go. I waited until Shane pulled the car to the front of the building and a nurse wheeled me and Jackson out like I had just given birth to him that day. She said it was hospital policy when I told her I was perfectly capable of walking out on my own. I didn’t object much. I just wanted to go home with my baby. Carefully Shane took Jackson from my arms and put him in the car seat. The nurse wished us well and walked away until she disappeared through the doors of the hospital entrance. Finally Jackson was on the way home. 

When we walked in the living room, me carrying Jackson and Shane carrying all the baby bags the hospital gave us there was a huge sign which read: “Welcome Home Jackson.” I could tell that my parents helped our other son make it. Tears rolled down my face and I placed Jackson into the bassinet which sat in the middle of the living room floor. That night I spent the night in Jackson’s room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him and didn’t want him to leave my arms. I talked to him, cuddled him in my arms and was so happy to feed him every two or so hours. My life was so complete. I could not imagine being any happier than I was that night.

Jackson thrived. He grew and gained weight so fast. I wanted him to slow down and if I could I would have slowed down time. Time was something that could not be slowed or quickened. I looked at the pictures on the wall leading from the loft to the bottom of the stairs. I really didn’t like climbing the ladder like stairs of the loft. I always felt like my feet would slip and slide on the steps and I would end up at the bottom of the steps with my now three year old looking up at me covered with peanut butter and jelly laughing. 

I kneeled down and taped up the top of the box. I carried it to the top of the steps and sat on the top step. Inside that box was a small part of history. It was a symbol of how far our family has come. My kids were perfect in an imperfect world. They were growing and thriving and in turn so was I. 

“Olivia, are you coming? The man from the church will be here in a few minutes for the donations.” Chase said at the bottom of the steps.

“I am.” I said, wiping away the last tear from my cheek.