Those straight white halls
led me through the maze, to your huge dark eyes
staring pleadingly up at me;
the ventilator having been again
disconnected from your delicate quivering lungs.
~ ~ ~
“He couldn’t survive another time on the vent.
We’d advise not putting him on again.
Take him home where he knows love and comfort.
We’ll sign you up with a hospice service.”
~ ~ ~
The room at the end of
those straight white halls, now again
a place for thanking God, for dripping tears
again on those stiff sterile sheets where you lay
warm and soft, your dark eyes shining into mine.
The day you were given a new life, one final time.

The last time you were disconnected,
and sent home to know life with us,
dearest seconds to preserve -
to live - to live - to live -
by minutes - by hours -
a life -
your life -
which was as it was,
not like others, but still breathing -
and infinitely precious.

Those straight white halls
were pearled jewels, as I pushed your
small wheelchair along them one more time;
and the automatic door a magic one,
as from a fairy tale with the secret words -
‘I love you, Travis Andrew, Open, Sesame’,
springing us out into familiar warm autumn breezes.

Home free - better than any ball game;
brighter than any Christmas or birthday;
freedom more free than escaping from prison.

Four more tender months of days and nights,
and so much love. Freedom as we had never known it,
after the eight endless years of your vulnerable living.

Comprehending that they would never put you
again on the machines to soundlessly scream;
the tube blocking your voice from those
dying lungs, in desperate sweating,
hopeless gasping,
enormous eyes gleaming, locked in black terror.

On machines regrettably unable to repair.

Four more months
we savored -lingering cuddles
in the soft rocking chair, velvet cheeked kisses;
your low gentle voice in moments when you felt well.
Surrounded by those old familiar friends,
the oxygen, and the suction machine.

It was our last time, my fragile darling boy
and it was a treasure
just as you were
all during your helpless,
priceless, inestimable eight year era.

I will never forget you, my baby.
Even now, so many years later;
stinging, my tears still fall...