Four Page Letters (TeacherxStudent)

How I Met Your Mother

*5 years later...

Rosalynn

The air was different this Saturday morning as we stepped out of the car. It felt thick and heavy. Dangerously heavy. Almost suffocating like. It's the middle of September so there should be a wind blowing through, but nothing. Everything seems..still. The car doors slamming bring me out of my daze. I look back to see my children climbing out of the car. Cameron slung her purse over her shoulder as she came and stood by me. "You okay?" She asks me. I nod, giving her a tight-lipped smile; all I could manage at the moment. I don't even know what that word means anymore. Okay. "Come on." Her hand slid in mine, as we all crossed the parking lot and went into the building. I glanced behind me to ensure the other girls were following. They look like little adults, my girls. I can't even believe how much time has gone by.

My Cameron. Cam, as she goes by. She's sixteen years old now. Getting more beautiful every day. Her blond hair has been dyed a chestnut brown, courtesy of her Aunt Abby. Layered in curls that fall down her back. She's wearing a simple cropped shirt and a pair of grey sweats with a plaid flannel. An old designer handbag that she'd stolen from my closet many moons ago rests on her shoulder. She has really grown into herself, that one. Captain of her junior varsity cheerleading team, an amazing scholar, never bringing home anything less than a high 'B'. She's also fluent in French and I think that is the most amazing thing ever and she loves it. Imagine her surprise when she learned we were taking her to Paris for her sixteenth birthday. I appreciate Cam so much especially during recent times. Before anything else she is the most amazing daughter and big sister. The way she loves her little sisters and looks out for them is a sight to see to say the least. I'm so incredibly grateful for her. For the way she loves her family.

We walked down the familiar hallways, rode up the tight spaced elevator, weaving in and out of people. I kept glancing back to ensure the girls were keeping up. Cara holding onto Cece's hand. After what seemed like an eternity, we crossed the threshold of Room 819, what has become our second home. Immediately, everyone fell into routine. Cece set up in the corner, her usual spot as she turned on her iPad and placed her headphones over her ears. Cam busied herself with throwing out the old flowers and replacing them with new ones and fresh water and Cara crawled onto the bed and shut her eyes. I myself found my way into the lonely chair in the corner. Sitting my things down and taking out the crocheted blanket I had been working on. The atmosphere was calm and once Cameron finished, she joined Cece in her corner. Setting up her blanket and pillows on the floor as she pulled out her favorite book. The room fell silent as our usual routine took its course. The beeping in the background that once made me anxious, now providing a comfortable beat to the thoughts in my mind. I exhaled deeply as I took a look around me before picking up my crocheting needle.

An hour had passed and right on cue Cameron rose to her feet, tapping Cara's shoulder to wake her. Cece was already up and waiting by the door. She grabbed her bag from the ground and walked towards me, leaning down to kiss my cheek. "Be back." I nod as they all piled out of the room and disappeared down the hall, headed to the cafeteria. Giving me my usual thirty minutes of alone time. I stood to my feet and grabbed my chair, bringing it closer to the bedside. Taking a moment to steady my breathing, I leaned down and whispered to my darling girl, "Hi baby. I'm here. We're all here." I placed a kiss against her right temple. "Well. I've gotta say, I'm growing tired of this place. This chair is making my ass flat." I laughed to myself. I looked down and took her in. Every visit I make sure to take note of her appearance that day. Ensuring that I don't miss a thing and nothing is out of place. I stare at her, hoping to catch even the faintest of signs that she is coming back to me. I watch her closed eyes, searching for a flutter of her eyelashes. Nothing. My eyes quickly bypass the tubes down her throat and drop to her hand as I pick it up and hold it in mine. "Come on baby. Move them. For me... please?" Again, nothing. I sigh as I look at her empty hand. Her fingers had gotten too swollen to keep her wedding ring on, so they had to take it off. I wear it on a chain around my neck. My hands brush back her hair, making sure a strand isn't out of place. I lean down once again, "I'm trying." I say in a whispered tone, my voice breaking. "I'm still fucking trying to keep it together for us. But Charlotte it has been sixty-two days and I'm falling apart." I let the tears fall down my face for just a moment before quickly wiping them away. I only get thirty minutes alone with her and I am not going to spend it crying. I took a seat in the chair as my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. I can already feel a headache coming on. "Sixty-two days." I repeat aloud. Sixty-two days since my life changed. My family's life. Sixty-two awful days my wife has been in this hospital, in this bed, with no change. She is not getting worse, and I thank God for that, but still ... she hasn't gotten better. She has been in this coma for sixty-two days...