It's Monday. I get a call and minutes later we're at the hospital- around him. We're crying, praying, hoping.
Intracerebral hemmorhage in the brain parenchyma. What does that all mean? What it means is he might not make it.
It's Tuesday. Medical tests. We're hoping.
It's Wednesday. He's taken off life support- doctors say he's already brain dead.
It's Sunday again and we're at the funeral. There's too many people, unfamiliar faces. I just want to be with him.
I would give anything to rewind to last week and take back all the stupid arguements I had with him, tell him to take a break from work and treat him to his favorite buffet. If I knew something like this would happen I would have stayed home from that party and spent an evening watching movies with him. I would have told him every detail of my life just to bring us closer together. I owed him at least that. After all, he was the one that bandaged my knees, snuck in candies without mom knowing, taught me to swim, ride a bike, rollerblade, and he was the one hat pulled me in a wagon when i was too lazy to do al of that.
Of all the things he's taught me, the biggest lesson I've learned from him is that life goes on. It's a elsson I haven't completely grasped yet, but it's something I continue to learn everyday.
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