Just me and Mike

Michael is sleeping more now, and he is visibly weaker. He doesn't want me to fuss over him, even though I want to. It's one of the few things he can conrtrol now. He is sad but at peace.

We had some quiet time today, just the two of us. He and Rob get to be together and quiet in the morning, while I'm still asleep. I was up with him twice during the night, so I slept in this morning. No one else was here, so I was able to chill while he slept.

The social worker from hospice was here today, prodding me to talk about what I'm feeling. It's not often I have to be prodded, but this isn't about me. We talked about how good it felt to see the neighbor's face when I told her the cars are parked on the street because people are visiting my dying son. She said that's OK. It's OK to be pissy, which I am some of the time, although not at Michael.

I dreamed I was crying last night and I couldn't stop. Michael came out of a school and was crying and I couldn't get to him to help. Gee. I wonder what all that means. The social worker said I probably should allow myself time to cry, but I'm not ready for that yet. I will cry when he's gone and I have a reason to cry.

Mary Etta Perry died today. She was in her 80s and lived a long, wonderful life. She was a nurse and a poet, a kind and wise woman. Her partner, Mary Cowall, her dog, Dorcas, and friends were with her when she breathed her last. A quote from Mary Etta speaks to Michael's life too:

"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming...Wow! What a ride!!"

Michael has lived a lot in his 33 years. We talked about that tonight as we watched a Star Trek DVD. I will cry when he's gone, but not yet. I can still make him laugh -- or at least smile.

I told him how much it meant to Peyton to be able to sit with us the other night. He teased her and she got to feel close to him one more time. It was spontaneous and unrehearsed. It was genuine, and it meant the world to her.

We talked about what is to come for him. Of course, we don't know what's next, but he would love to play guitar with Stevie Ray Vaughan, fish and smoke ciagarettes with his grandfather and aunt, eat a load of great food and be strong and healthy again. Please, God, let it be so.