little blue flowers

a little prince

he didn't like talking to us
and i don't blame him;
his nurse was a narcissistic ass
and his mother came in everyday
to cut up his food for him and play
an old vhs of the teletubbies
on the grainy t.v. all the rooms have
and everyday he'd tell me
how much he hated
watching that show
and eating diced carrots
and telling his nurse
to stop making
cancer jokes.

so i found ways to entertain him.
on my breaks i brought over
candy cigarettes
and we watched i love lucy
and played pretend.
i was his society wife and
he was my lawyer husband
and our son was a stuffed giraffe
named herb
his dad had given him just before
he split town
for a woman half his age.

i told him it wasn't his fault. i swear.
but he just shrugged and
put the chalky cigarette
between his lips
and asked me
when the dinner guests
were coming over.

one of my favorite moments with him
must've been around christmas or so.
i was almost off my shift
when my fiancé called to tell me
the roads were backed up and iced over
and he wanted me to spend the night
at the hospital for my safety.
so before i nodded off in a spare room
i slipped in
and left him a copy of the little prince
and a cupcake with
blue and yellow frosting
from the hospital cafeteria.
i thought he'd love it and thank me later
maybe even think santa claus
hadn't forgotten him
despite the hired jolly joy-bringer cycling
through the hospital earlier
that week with candy canes and dolls.

he'd looked so peaceful.
his eyes were closed and
his brow wasn't all
scrunched up like it usually was.
he looked something like
an angel
if you thought
to look close enough.

in the morning when i visited him
i saw the book opened on his lap
and blue and yellow frosting
smeared across his pink cheeks.
he smiled. brightly.
like the kid he was meant to be
and told me how santa claus
really was here
he really was! ya shoulda seen it, nadia!
and when his mother came in later
with several wrapped gifts for him
i noticed how he held tight to
the little prince
and didn't let go.

the last time i saw him
he was holding tight to the white blankets
of the hospital bed
with tears in his eyes.
his mom had left to grab a coffee
at a place down the street
so i gathered him up in my arms
and wiped away his tears
murmuring lovely things
and sweet lullabies
and promising everything
was going to be
okay.
when he calmed down again
he grabbed my hand
and told me about
an ad he saw on the t.v. once
with some cancer patients around his age
and he asked me if
he was going to be on the t.v.
because nadia, nadia
that would be so great
and my momma would be proud
and maybe daddy'll come back
and nadia
i don't wanna go
no, i don't wanna
go away for so long.
can't i just be away for a little bit?

my little prince died
two weeks later
in his sleep.

i'm married now
and it's been a few years
but everytime i tell this story-
this tragic, simple story-
i see him nearly asleep and alive
and humming along to the
i love lucy theme
with herb in his arms
and i think about christmas
without
christopher.

christopher,
you're okay.
i promise.

you just have to be away
for a little while
before you can come home
again.