A life can change in only a few seconds, and it can be taken away in half that time. When you truly think about it, we're all just one heartbeat away from our impending death. Its funny, how we all fight amongst ourselves when we don't even pay attention to the true inevitable enemy that we all face: time. And the worst part is, we're constantly losing with every second that goes by. And most of the time, we don't realize the time that we have with someone may not be as much as we thought it would.
I looked away for two seconds, but I guess that's all it takes. He was riding his bike outside, and I always told him, "Lucas, don't go in the street, you'll get hit by a car", but for some reason he just didn't listen. I was sitting on the porch, and all of a sudden I had gotten a phone call. I looked away to answer it, and the next thing I heard was the screeching sound of tires. I remember my heart skipping a beat as I looked up to see a car charging toward my four year old son, and screaming his name at the top of my lungs.
But my screams didn't save him that day, and nor did my tears and calls for help save him when I ran to him and held his small body in my arms. God sure didn't save him for those long months in the hospital that I still spend waiting for him to wake up. And I'm pretty sure he won't bring him back in these final moments I'm going to have with him now.
You know, It's one thing to lose a child, but it's another thing to lose a child when it was your fault. If I would have ignored the call, told Lucas to come closer to the front of the house, or done something different, maybe I wouldn't be sitting here next to my brain dead son, waiting for the doctor to pull the plug.
I looked at him, the small life I brought into this world. His eyes were closed, and his skin had an eerie paleness to it. I noticed his brown hair grown out from months without a cut, and he seemed slightly gaunt. But despite all of it, he still looked like a little angel, one that would soon return to God in the next few minutes.
"Hey, Lukey," I said, giving him a sad smile. The doctor would be in any minute now. "I want you to know that mama loves you, Okay? I'm going to sing you a lullaby, your favorite, okay, baby?"
There was no answer. Even though I didn't expect one, a sting of disappointment raced through my veins. I knew It was a false hope to hold on to if I expected a reply, but I couldn't help myself.
Nonetheless, I cleared my throat.
"Hush little baby, don't say a word, moma's gonna buy you a mocking bird.," I ran my fingers across his forehead, a lump begining to form in my throat. I fought it back. I had to finish. I had too, one last time. ""If that mocking bird don't sing, Moma's going to buy you a diamond ring."
I heard the footsteps of someone walking into the room, but I didn't dare look away. I knew it was the doctor, who was here to pull the plug. I clenched my jaw and grabbed onto my sons hand, holding onto the last final minutes I had with him and desperatly hoping that someway, somehow, the life inside me could surge into him and bring him back to me.
"If that diamond ring turns brass," my voice was beginning to crack as I forced the words out. "Mama's going to buy you a looking glass."
The doctor took a few slow steps to the machines, and I knew I only had a few more seconds.
" And if that looking glass get's broke, mama's going to buy you a billy goat."I could feel myself break with every word, and tears relentlessly began to flow, blurring my vision. But I couldn't let him go. I couldn't. Not yet. I was wrong, I wasn't ready for this. But who is? "And if that billy goat won't pull, Mama's going to buy you a cart and bull."
The doctor hesitated for a moment. He just looked at my son and I, and waited for me to continue.
"And if that cart and bull turn over, mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover," I sang, every word a struggle. I was getting to the end soon. But it wouldn't truly be the end, because the pain of my mistake would always follow me. You see, the pain never goes away, you just have to learn to make room for it. "And if that dog named Rover won't bark, mama's going to buy you a horse and cart."
I cleared my throat once more, and tried to rub my eyes with my shoulder. There were two lines left.
"And if that horse and cart falls down," My breathing began to quicken as I choked on my sobs. There was one line left, and all I could think about was that my little boy would never grow up, would never meet the love of his life, would never have children, would never laugh, feel the sunlight on his skin in the summer, never smile, never feel joy, and never truly live again, because he was dead. The light behind his eyes was taken, and would never be seen again.
I slowly unclasped my fingers around his hand and kissed his forehead as I whispered the final line of the lullaby.
"You'll still be the sweetest baby in town."
