Sunday
I awoke to the phone ringing at 5:40 am. My neighbor was calling to say that Jacob had awakened, and she didn't have any formula to give him. (He was only 10 months at the time, so he wasn't yet drinking milk.) I walked across the street and brought my baby home.
It was a rainy day, and I was exhausted from the previous day, so when Jacob fell back asleep, I took the opportunity to sleep as well.
We woke up around 9, and I started calling Joe's cell phone. There was no answer for hours. Finally, around noon, he called me. He had just been given a room. For almost 24 hours he had been lying next to the nurse's station. He was beyond exhausted, and told me that he just wanted to sleep. I told him that I wanted to visit him, but he said not to bother, just to let him sleep.
My school had just been completely rebuilt, and the dedication ceremony was that day. I was on the committee that planned the day, so I decided that I may as well go to the ceremony with Jacob.
After the ceremony I took Jacob shopping. Joe called me while we were at the mall. He said that the doctors were still unsure what was wrong with him, and when he would be coming home.
When I got home I put Jacob down for a nap. I called Joe and asked for an update.
"I'm really sick," he said.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked.
"They don't know," he answered.
I sunk down into his chair, and began to cry.
"This is so hard. I need you here."
"You can do it. Try to stay strong. I've gotta go," he replied.
I don't have many regrets in life. But one of my biggest by far is not going to visit Joe that day, two years ago. I just had no idea how bad it was about to get.
I can't even believe it was two years ago. This whole retelling makes me realize how much it feels like yesterday. It's that clear. I even remember what I was wearing, what Jacob was wearing, what I fed him that day, the way my stomach lurched when Joe said that he was really sick, the smell of his leather chair, the sound of worry in his voice, the helplessness that I felt.
And the statement I made, "This is so hard. I need you here." It rings true now more than ever. I can't believe he never got to come home. He knew I needed him here, and he didn't come home.
Thanks for reading.
-b
It was a rainy day, and I was exhausted from the previous day, so when Jacob fell back asleep, I took the opportunity to sleep as well.
We woke up around 9, and I started calling Joe's cell phone. There was no answer for hours. Finally, around noon, he called me. He had just been given a room. For almost 24 hours he had been lying next to the nurse's station. He was beyond exhausted, and told me that he just wanted to sleep. I told him that I wanted to visit him, but he said not to bother, just to let him sleep.
My school had just been completely rebuilt, and the dedication ceremony was that day. I was on the committee that planned the day, so I decided that I may as well go to the ceremony with Jacob.
After the ceremony I took Jacob shopping. Joe called me while we were at the mall. He said that the doctors were still unsure what was wrong with him, and when he would be coming home.
When I got home I put Jacob down for a nap. I called Joe and asked for an update.
"I'm really sick," he said.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked.
"They don't know," he answered.
I sunk down into his chair, and began to cry.
"This is so hard. I need you here."
"You can do it. Try to stay strong. I've gotta go," he replied.
I don't have many regrets in life. But one of my biggest by far is not going to visit Joe that day, two years ago. I just had no idea how bad it was about to get.
I can't even believe it was two years ago. This whole retelling makes me realize how much it feels like yesterday. It's that clear. I even remember what I was wearing, what Jacob was wearing, what I fed him that day, the way my stomach lurched when Joe said that he was really sick, the smell of his leather chair, the sound of worry in his voice, the helplessness that I felt.
And the statement I made, "This is so hard. I need you here." It rings true now more than ever. I can't believe he never got to come home. He knew I needed him here, and he didn't come home.
Thanks for reading.
-b