3 Months

The five of us sit at Craig's bedside; hold his hands and legs or buzz his head; and watch his 32 year old body slowly give into the cancer that has overcome him. With his body now limp, pale blue eyes open and fixed on some unknown image deep in his unconscious, and breaths faint and shallow, his 7 month battle is nearing its end.

Craig peacefully rests between sheets atop his blue hospital air mattress; his tilted head lifts ever so slightly with each breath as harp music quietly plays in the background. The image could be an identical overlay to what we experienced three months ago to the day, when our mom drew her last breaths. I remember sitting next to her, head down on her bed, holding her hand as I listened to that now unforgettable way of breathing. Then, like now, harp music serenaded her deep, unconscious sleep. Of all days, Craig spent this day, September 25th, "transitioning". The odds are uncanny. A cynical person would begin her tirade of curse words and flip her finger at life's extraordinarily cruel sense of humor. Yet, a sentimental person would view Craig's transitioning on Mom's 3 month anniversary as her way of extending her arms and saying to her first born child, "I'm here, sweetheart. I love you. It will be okay."

I've vacillated between the two mindsets, but have found myself drawing more comfort in (perhaps the hopeful) notion that this day's significance purposefully brings a mother to her son, and a son to his mother.

Today, in tribute to both of them, we brought Mom closer to Craig. Diane suggested we celebrate Mom with Craig by playing several of her videos; we also placed her famous "thumbs up" picture on his bed rail near him. Dad, Diane, Jill and I cried as we listened to Mom's healthy, full voice belt out happy birthday for Craig's 31^st (Lawler style), and sing her famous rendition of "So Long, Farewell".

Maybe, in some small way, hearing Mom's voice brought him comfort and peace. Maybe, it brought him closer to her. And, maybe it was yet another way for her to say, "I'm here, sweetheart. I love you. It will be okay."

~E