Death takes many forms…

Today he visited me with a phone call…from Kelly. A crying voice I could tell was barely able put the words together, “Tony, please come to Children’s Hospital, Michael is dead.”

I didn’t quite know what to say or what to do. I responded after what seemed like a long pause…”On my way…what area of the hospital?”

After getting there, I am in awe. I wasn’t sure why everyone was extremely careful in speaking with me, or in leading me to Kelly…until I was led into the room. Seeing a Mother and Grandmother so grief stricken that they didn’t want to let go of the child until rigor mortis had set in. Despite my strange views and hard-earned beliefs on death…I couldn’t help but mourn for them. The child’s eyes were slightly open…and the child was being held in such a manner that I honestly thought he was alive and this was all some piss-poor joke. I look to everyone, and realize that no one else was seeing what I was seeing. Time for Tony to take a minute and reconstitute himself…I closed my eyes..counted to ten…opened, and here he was, Mother and Grandmother still crying loudly holding him…and he’s still looking at me.

I don’t smoke, haven’t had a cigarette in over a year…I damn sure had one tonight. If someone had handed me a bottle, i probably would have knocked that out too.

I was with Kelly at the hospital when she brought Michael into this world. I found it extremely not-at-all-pleasurable to find myself wishing him a safe journey beyond with so little time here with us.

I am totally freaked out.

-T