That Day

Hello all who may or may not read this,

The moon is not as bright these lonely nights, and when all is still the stars cry out his name. It seems any minute some one,... any one in fact, will show up at my door graciously handing me my son.


March 29th

I was out trying to get some money and I left Sam with the people I was staying with (in an RV) so he wouldn't have see his Mommy begging for change from strangers, but when i got back he was hungry no not hungry starving. They hadn't fed him all day (8 hours is like 3 days when your 7 and 1/2 months old) I was so angry that they left for a while so I could calm down and feed him myself.

He had just crawled to me, calling me, smiling and happy as ever. I closed my eyes that night knowing that he was just fine and everything would be better someday.

March 30th

9:45 a.m.

When I awoke I knew something was wrong. He hadn't cried all night and he wasn't crying now (he usually gets up during the night around 12:30). I pulled the covers off to assure myself that he was fine but only found that he wasn't breathing. I pressed on his back to make sure I wasn't just paranoid--but nothing. He was still a little warm, so i tried to pick him up ... his arm didn't even fall as it would have if he were just sleeping. I kept saying 'no its not real' in my head, but all I could force out was a scream of terror barely forming a no, followed by several more screams. I shook my head, crying and holding him tight as though I would wake from some nightmare I had just walked into--no such luck. The sobs trickled down and I simply went numb. I couldn't feel anything. I tried to have a smoke but I simply spaced out holding it. The ashes fell on my jeans, but I dared not swipe them off as I was still holding his lifeless body and feared getting him dirty. The drive to the hospital was the shortest I'd ever had. I ran into the E.R. shoeless and hopeless. "My baby, he's not breathing," I said as calmly as possible. When the doctor whisked him away as fast as he could (he's a grandpa himself and works with my mother), the blanket fell from his face reminding me that this was a vain attempt at a rescue.

10:10 a.m.

I fell on the floor again, my eyes flooding with tears. They took me to a privet room inside the E.R. so I could cry and break down if need be. The first person I called was my mother, but there was no answer. I was in such an absorbed state I didn't even think to call her best friend for an hour or so, until some one from nowhere said "do you have some one else you can call". So I called her, and I called her husband, and finally an answer.

11:23 a.m.

"Hello?" It was like having the first hope of Christmas all over again.

"Destiny?" I said in a shaky voice. But before she could answer I asked for her mother in a stern voice.
"Where's your Mother?"

"Why?" she asked.

I kept my voice in an even tone while yelling, "Just give the phone to your mother!!!!".

"Hello? Whats up?"

"Heather," I began to sob harder then before, "Sam's Dead."
It was the first time I'd heard myself say it aloud.

"I'm on my way!!!" she said.

"Can you go get my mother up, please?"

12:08 p.m.

Destiny was the first into the room,she hugged me tight "I'm so sorry." she said. Then walked over to a couch sat and cried

Heather was close behind "Oh Tash...". They both sat down hugging one another and sobbing.

"Mom." I said with a sigh of relief. We inbraced in an unfamiliar and grief-stricken way.

"I'm so sorry, Tashi. No one should have to be alone for so long when something this horrifying happens."

We all huddled close together as a crash kart was rushed to my sons room. I knew it was useless but told myself that the Dr.'s are doing everything they can and that they need to know for sure that there's nothing they could have done for him in the end.
The torture didn't stop there an investigator had to interview me as a suspect and told me that the heath department would call me with the coroners results for his autopsy. (still hasn't)

April 2nd

12:40 p.m.

I went to pick up Sams and my things from the people i had been living with. They had a friend over and hadn't told him of my ...condition and he was acting in a way that made me vary angry acting like i had betrade our trust. So I asked him "whats the matter with you?!"

"What. It's not like you care."

I turned on them "YOU didn't tell HIM!?"

"Tell me what, what happened?"

I welded on him and focused on his eyes "Well as you can see I'm moving back in with my mother, these two are moving back to where ever it is that they came from and oh yeah MY SON DIED THIS MORNING!"

I didn't even realize that two days had gone by. Suddenly Nothing made any sense any more, Why did I need to get up in the morning if I didn't need to feed Sam any more? Why do laundry if i didn't need to cloth Sam any more? And why, why do i need to eat if i have no reason to nourish my brain ... any more?