A Gallery of Thoughts, Pictures, and Memories

it was later tonight. it was in 2005. it was a devolution. one last attempt to avoid the event horizon.

Really, I think it was everything – scary. hopeful. an imperative. there was no other choice but the event horizon. The pager went off and it wasn’t midnight yet. We had just bedded down, and then – it was time to get things together and get ready to go.

“Get some sleep.”, she said. Who was she kidding? We made some calls… left some messages where people wouldn’t pick up the phone, and proceeded to nervously get our things together. What would we need? Who knew?

Once that was done, we got into the car and made an attempt to let his dad know what was happening. Of course, no one came to the door. Dark. No lights after the ring of the doorbell. I suspected I knew what was going on – but, I just tried to give it up. We couldn’t wait for nonsense – for people who refuse to be open to communication at a critical time when the unexpected can happen.

Oh well. We took off for the destination. Following our noses. Not much traffic, of course. By then it was well after midnight. We drove down the toll road. Nobody but us. Hardly saying two words. Our thoughts were on his journey ahead of him – and we didn’t want to talk about the possibilities. We already had.

We got down to the road that we needed to take and it was night-time construction – some exits shut off – and ours was one of them. Oh boy.

We had to go to the next open exit and try to navigate through the dark streets in a bad-ass neighborhood, known for its violent crime. Don’t stop at stop light intersections – just look for cars and roll through – if a cop stops us, we explain – maybe we will get an escort. Didn’t see one. Just figuring out the back streets to get to the hospital emergency room.

It took us a bit longer, but once we got there, we valet parked. Familiar territory, the ER. Been there, done that.

We made our way to the front desk. I told him to sit and wait for me and I would call him up when they were ready – once they knew who he was, they pulled us in and kept us from the sick kids there in the middle of the night emergency room crowd – you don’t go unless you are with a sick or injured. child. That’s how it is.

Finally, we were told we were to go up – and we proceeded up the familiar elevators to the floor. From there on out, it was a very intense process. His dad finally showed up. His friend had gone over again and banged on the door until someone came, to let him know that “it” was happening.

Throughout the night, we tried to snooze, but people kept coming in and asking questions, poking, prodding, examining, and getting him ready. It was hours long…

We didn’t learn too much – it was more of being processed than being a patient. Finally, at some point, it was time, they said. By then, it was after sunrise and we learned that the time would be 8:30 AM.

We learned that there were others ahead of him. Guess it was bad for some families, which became good for us and other families. That was very hard for him to get used to – someone would have to die to give him another chance at life.

I will always remember the sequence of events on this night. In 2005. The hope. The fear. The need to be brave for him – to be strong for him – because the decision he made was resolute. There was no going back.

He was trying not to get to his event horizon so soon.