Day 11 of watching and waiting

There isn't much to report. I sit with Sam and watch his chest, waiting for each breath. I scan his face searching for signs of distress, discomfort, pain. I touch his skin, feeling for clues-is he hot or cold? Does he need a blanket? Does he have a fever? I struggle to interpret his inaudible whispers and weak hand signals-Water? Pain? Hunger?

All I want is for him to want for nothing. To need nothing. To feel no pain. To have no fear. I'm such a failure.

I miss his eyes. I miss his little voice. Oh who am I kidding? We haven't heard his real voice for months, but I even miss his whispery voice. I miss his laugh.

Halloween is less than 2 weeks away and our jack o'lanterns have already gone moldy and been thrown away. It a good thing I decorated and carved early. At least I got that right.

***Did I write that I am a failure? What I meant to say was I have failed. That is truth. I have failed to meet his every need. To have him never know want or pain. I did fail. I am failing. I will continue to fail him. It is just a fact. Not a judgement of myself as a mother or a person. It just is. I have to accept that I cannot achieve this perfectly peaceful passage for him. It is impossible. It hurts. But it just is.

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