 |
|
|
“Shh…it’s okay,” I spoke in a hushed tone to my distraught son. “Shh..it’s okay, it’s all right, why don’t you sit down,” I said trying to cajole him. Already seated at a visitor’s table, I was afraid to stand up although my youngest son stood within arm’s reach. I could only repeat the words, “shh…it’s ok.” Tears began to stream done my face as the guards came closer and I became fearful that this precious time – a less than an hour visit with my son in a maximum security hospital was going to end before it had begun. “Shh, I repeated desperately trying to keep my voice calm despite Greg’s shouts and inappropriate behavior.
Then, it was as if what was real – wasn’t. My mind raced back to very different times spent with my precious child. Memories of happy hours flashed through my mind – short circuiting the painful reality of the present moment. I recalled the time we spent in New York City together during his elementary school years – his willingness to walk long distances in all kinds of weather - and the multitude of compliments I received about his behavior and cooperative nature. Much too quickly he was all grown up, but no longer the “youngest” – and how thrilled he was to relinquish his “youngest” position to his new baby sister. What a wonderful big brother he was – an Emergency Medical Technician who never hesitated to lie on the floor and play with his little sister - always willing to babysit – even on short notice!
The escape from reality that my memories provided came to an end as I again became aware of my son’s outcries. But to my relief he was sitting down – across the table. The guards backed away asking only, “is it okay now, Greg?”
Our time together resumed as Greg acknowledged the presence of his friend who was sitting alongside me. “Good to see you too,” John responded to Greg’s outstretched hand.
Grateful that his friend seemed to be able to engage him in conversation I felt somewhat at ease and settled back in the chair. As he struggled to talk with his friend I surveyed my son’s face and demeanor for something familiar – a gesture, a look – something that would console me.
“Oh, Greg, my dear, darling son,” my heart cried out. “What has happened to you? Where is the person that I know? How could you want to hurt yourself? Is it going to be all right? Is it going to be okay?”
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
