Five More Minutes

I don't dream about you anymore. I used to every single night. The house was too dark when I would wake but was impossible to fall back to sleep. There's a gaping hole inside my heart. Its been there since the day you went away.

***

July 17th is still the hardest day of the year for me. And as it draws near again, I try to imagine another year without you. So much has changed. Your Dad and I are no longer together. He couldn't bear to see me suffer from the unimageable grief of losing you. He moved out a few months after your accident, leaving Amy and I alone in this gigantic house. At first I could not bare to leave my room. Your sister grew up over night. She had no choice. I went from making her breakfast and lunch and making sure she got up for school to staying in bed until I heard the front door slam shut. That was the exact same month your Dad moved out. I would walk across the hall to your bedroom, climb into your bed, smell your pillow and comforter and cry myself back to sleep.

Most days I would return to my own bed before two in the afternoon but once Amy came home and found me still asleep in your bed. She never brought it up but I knew it affected her. I saw how she would watch me in the kitchen and I wasn't sure if I should explain myself or apologize. I decided to do nothing. Someday if she was lucky enough she would have a child of her own and than she would understand my pain. Your little sister went through hell after you left us. I'm so proud of the woman she has become now. Amy is so much better this year. She went from self harming to becoming an amazing therapist.

It has given her purpose. She loves what she does and that's all I could ever ask for as her Mom. The fact that she turned our tragedy into a gift that helps her heal young adolescent's with trauma's of their own is a miracle. She misses you so much. Tomorrow you will be gone ten years. It still seems surreal. No amount of time will ever make me forget you. Anyone you tells you time heals is lying. It doesn't heal. It only changes the pain, the loss, the emptiness. I miss your face. Your incredible laugh. I miss talking with you and holding you. I miss watching movies with you. Back to the Future, My Cousin Vinny and The Breakfast Club were some of your favorites. I will not bring myself to watch them without you.

***

We are together in the waiting room at St. Charles hospital. Amy clings to her Dad and cries into his shirt while I pace the floor. "Lacy, please your making us dizzy. Try and sit down. If not for me then for Amy." I give my husband a nasty glare. "No, I just have to know what's happening. I hate waiting , go ask them please for me. find out how he is." He lets go of our daughter and comes besides me. He tries to hold me but I pull away. "Ok, ok I'll go and find out something. You sit with Amy. she needs you too."

Adam leaves us to go hunt down a doctor or nurse with information on our son. I take the chair beside Amy. She is beyond frantic. I wipe her eyes with my fingers and pull her in for a long embrace. "Shh Shh. Its going to be okay, we have to have faith. We have to keep praying for him." Amy pulls back from my arms. "Mom, I'm so scared. I've never been this scared before." "I know, I know, I am too. But your Dad will come back with some answers and I think you'll calm down. I just wish he would hurry up." Amy grins. "What's that for?" "You hate waiting for anything." I grin back at her.

Amy grabs tissues from a nearby box and blows her nose. I notice another family that have just entered the waiting room with us. They are scared, they have been crying I can tell by their faces. The man is tall possibly six four and the woman beside him is maybe five three or shorter. Another man older and shorter is trying his best to comfort them. "Do you want to go take a walk maybe get some air?" I hear him ask the woman. "No! Not until I know how they are." I'm not trying to eavesdrop but their talking loudly so its out of my control. Amy looks from the family and then back to me. "Its okay, they're worried about someone they love too." We hug again.

Adam returns and takes a seat beside me. "I found a nurse. She said the doctor is in with Josh right now. He will come and find us soon." "Thank you. Take Amy out of here for awhile. I'll text you when he comes in." Adam stands up and reaches for Amy's hand. "No, I want to stay with Mom! Please let me stay!" "Its ok, lower your voice. We can take a quick walk, get something to drink..." "No, Mom needs me." "Amy, go with your Dad. I'll be fine. I promise to let you know when the doctor comes back. Its alright sweetie, go on." They leave and I start crying again. The woman notices me and comes to sit beside me.

"Hi, I know what your going through." She hands me the tissue box. "I guess your the only one who does." She nods her head. "Your son or daughter?" I wipe my eyes off. "My son, Josh he was.. in an accident.. its really bad that's all we know." She touches my hand. "I'm so sorry. Both of my kids are in there, my daughter is only seventeen she was the one driving, and my son, he slipped into a coma. They were on their way home. I don't understand when things like this happen." "Me either, I've been sitting here trying to figure out why him, he is a good person and he doesn't deserve any of this. I'm sure your kids don't either."

We sit in silence for sometime before I realize Adam hasn't returned with Amy. I text his phone. Where are you two? I blow out a long breath. I stand and walk towards the door. I see a tall doctor coming in my direction. I wait until he is right in front of me and then I hold my breath preparing for worst. But he walks to the other family. I watch him deliver his news and they fall apart. Right there in front of me. My phone dings with a reply from my husband. We are eating something. Did the doctor come in? I reply quickly. No, I'm still waiting.

***

I'm so sorry baby boy. I hope you realize just how badly I would have traded places with you, how I still would. Sorry you couldn't get married or grow old with us. I'm truly sorry you missed seeing Amy grow into the wonderful person that she has become. I know how proud she would make you now. You were always so protective over her. I will never stop missing you or hurting for you. I still talk to you like you were here with me. It helps. Not all the time but it makes some days bearable. I would give anything for just five more minutes with you. To see you smile, to hear you laughing or to catch up on things that interest you.

***

A nurse comes to find us and Amy stays with my Mom and Dad. Adam and I are escorted to the ICU where my son is waiting for us. I'm having trouble getting my legs to work. They feel as if they will give out from under me at any second. Adam is holding my hand but I'm sweating so bad its become clammy. I stop right before we approach the bed. "I need to be alone with him. Please Adam, please let me talk to Josh by myself. Please..." Adam lets go of my hand. He looks hurt. But he honors my request. He walks away with the nurse on duty.

I pull back the curtain and stare at my son. He looks so helpless. He looks so young, like he is a child again. I close the curtain behind me and walk slowly toward the bed. I touch his hand. Its already cold. "Josh, its Mom. I hope you can hear me. I need more time with you. Please, open your eyes, tell me they made a mistake. Tell me the doctors are wrong. I want you back! I don't know how to go on without you! I need more time, I need more.. oh my God. Dear God, take me instead. I beg you God, please let Josh stay here. Please!" I begin to scream and then Adam and the nurse are pulling me away from my first born child.

"No, No, he needs me! I have to stay with him! Don't make me go!" "Lacy, stop this, stop screaming. Your only hurting yourself..." Adam says into my ear. "No, I need to see my son. I'm not ready to let him go! I need to stay with him. Let me go!" The nurse is crying and she reaches for my hand. "We have people you can talk to. Let us help you. I know this is difficult. I'm so sorry." I look into her eyes pleading "I'm not ready to leave him. Let me stay. I'm begging you. Just give me five more minutes with my son."