Dolphin Tale 7

Chapter [5]

[disclaimer: it's rather difficult to write grief when you've never experienced it on such a scale as this chapter will explore, so depictions—though based on research—may not be entirely accurate]

TWO MONTHS LATER

Today was the day.

After such a long, restless, and agonising period of time, today was going to be the day a major milestone occurred.

For Hazel and Sawyer, the past three weeks had been a hellish emotional rollercoaster ride—one that they never wanted to experience again, and one that they would never wish upon anyone else. Two months ago, to this day, they had said goodbye to their son in a cruel twist of fate.

He had been five days old.

In that time, he had been showered with love from his parents and the rest of his family. They had held his hand, read him stories, sung sweet lullabies, sitting with him and his twin sister from morning until night every single day. He had never been alone.

Even though he had only spent five days with his family, they had formed an incredible bond and created memories that they would cherish for a lifetime. So when it was time to say goodbye, it had been a tough, tear-filled occasion flooded with memories that they wished would be more than just emotional imprints within their minds. They wanted to relive those memories, and it tore them apart to realise that it would never happen.

The weeks following his passing had been difficult for everyone.

Even though Hazel and Sawyer were surrounded by an incredible support group of the doctors and nurses who had cared for their son, as well as their family and friends, their foundations were incinerated to ashes as they yearned—burned—to feel their son's delicate fingers wrap around their own once more. They so desperately wanted to be able to caress his head again, to style his light dusting of brown hair in a way that matched his father's, to shower him with a thousand kisses—to cuddle him warmly and whisper sweet, tender nothings into his ear with adoration and reassurance on their lips as they looked on with profound love and innocent hope blossoming within their eyes.

To have that all snatched away from them in the blink of an eye had been torture in its purest form.

They did not blame anyone. The doctors and nurses had done everything they could and had warned them of the volatility of the situation. And they, themselves, had known that things could change in mere seconds. But that did not make it any easier.

Grief was an indiscriminate beast. One that reared its head in even the most unassuming of times. Grief was also a journey. One that provided neither a map nor an end date or destination. Most importantly, grief knew no bounds, embodied by cruel, tangible emotions and harrowing thoughts that, if left untamed, morphed into formidable weapons of self-destruction.

The devil that kept dancing tauntingly just beyond their fingertips, cackling as it tormented them, drawing them further, deeper into the shadows—the personification of grief.

And it knew no remorse.

They had been on a relative high when the beast had pounced. Swimming in an idle river of grounded happiness and boundless love, making memories in the sunlight surrounded by those they loved, they sang and reminisced until the stars twinkled in the reflection of the water pooling in their eyes. They had ventured further down the river, taking cautious steps forward, avoiding the rippling shadows, until their feet were suddenly swept out from underneath them. There had been no warning as the current suddenly picked up and thrust them into what lay ahead.

And so their journey had begun.

Their son's death had brought them over the edge, and they fell with the waterfall that crashed into the stream below, the force of the cascading water pushing them into the hands of the rapidly-moving stream that seemed to flow as far as the eye could see. They did not want to believe it—hoping, praying that this was just a mirage, an illusion that would vanish when they opened their eyes—but their eyes were already open. No matter how hard their eyes screamed to them that this was real, their brain just could not keep up with all the processing that had to take place, shutting down as all the input overwhelmed the millions of neurons working tirelessly to provide a comprehensive explanation—billions of years of evolution seemingly insufficient to handle such a volatile menagerie of emotions.