light | m.c.

week three-hundred seven | clouds

on monday i had made it to the end of abigails journal. time was running out.

on tuesday i spent the day at the hospital. abbie had laid there silently, but her silence spoke louder than her words.

on wednesday abbie looked sicker than she ever has. regardless, i stayed by her side and kept her happy.

on thursday the doctors spoke to me about abbie. they told me her body was slowly shutting down on her and she had days left to live.
thursday night mom brought alex to the hospital so they could spend the last few days of abbies life with her.

on friday alex talked nonstop about all her friends at school and the latest sleepover she went to. for the first time in months, abigail braced a real smile upon her pale, sickly face.
that night, alex slept by her mothers side while abbie weakly stroked her hair and placed soft kisses to her forehead.

on saturday abbie was covered in her own vomit. i've never seen alex so scared. i knew what this meant.
throughout the rest of the day -- once abbie was cleaned up -- family and friends came to visit. it had helped keep her mind off of what was to come until later that night when it was her, me and alex.

"i love you so much, alex marie." abbie said softly as our baby girl laid tucked by her side.

"what's happening to you, mommy?"

"i'm getting ready to leave to a better place."

alex sat there for a moment, confused. but then she turned to her mother with a glimmer in her eye. "like disneyland or hawaii?!"

abbie giggled and smiled at her daughter. "yeah, something like that."

"maybe someday i can come visit you?"

abbies eyes dimmed in color and it was clear she was holding back tears. "sweetheart," she started, "it's not so simple for you to come and visit me. i am very sick, and this 'better place' is somewhere you can't follow me until you're very, very old and have lived your life."

"mommy, are you dying?" alex whispered as a tear slipped from her eye.

"i am afraid so, sweetheart." abbie now had tears continuously falling from her blue eyes.

"mommy! you can't die! you're supposed to see me grow up!" alex bawled.

"i will, alex," her voice was quiet, "i will just have to watch from up in the clouds."

"so you're not going somewhere like disneyland?"

"no, i'm going up in the clouds."

"the clouds." alex repeated softly. "clouds."

on sunday abbies doctor told us she had until monday morning to live. her vitals were dropping day by day and her tumors were expanding. abbie had asked me to send in her mother. for the rest of the day i didn't see abbie, but i knew it was right for her family to see her before monday.
late afternoon on sunday abbies family and alex and i went out for a late lunch while abbie rested.
when we returned, abbie didn't wake up. tears filled my eyes as i held abbies hand in mine and i looked over at the lifeless monitor.

"daddy, why won't mommy wake up?" my precious girl asked with fearful and tear filled eyes.

"mommy's up in the clouds, baby."

"but the doctors said she lived until monday!" alex yelled tears streaming down her face.

"i know, baby, i know."

"i hate doctors!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she cried into my shoulder.

i hated them too.