The Day He Returned to Heaven

 

I have to record this.

It's so fresh and beautiful, I don't ever want to forget it.

I don't ever want to forget him.

 

At first we thought it was a cold.

A sickness in his chest.

Coughing. Mucus.

Congestion.

I think part of it was an infection.

An infection that went quickly through his lungs.

But I know a lot of it was his brain too.

That tiny brain of his that would never work right!

 

He wasn't breathing on Friday morning at 5am when I woke up.

Tom took his saturation level and saw he was in the 60s.

Tom turned up the oxygen, higher then normal.

 

I got home from a beautiful sunrise hike.

And I checked him.

He did need even-more oxygen.
I texted Bradley's nurse.

The nurse told me to put Bradley on an oxygen tank so I could turn the oxygen level even higher.

 

All through the day Bradley struggled to breath.

His neck would sink in and his nostrils would flair when he'd gasp for air.

 

And his nurse came out.

And we talked about going to the hospital.

We talked about antibiotics for the suspected infection.

He ordered some medications and more oxygen tanks for us to stay home.

 

And he left. And I stayed by Bradley's side.
I knew he was struggling.

But he has struggled a lot, and I didn't know how soon it'd be.

 

And Tom got home from work,
and I laid on the bed next to Bradley with all of our kids around us.

 

And Tom said he was grey when he saw Bradley.

And we checked his saturation.
 And he was at a 30.
Healthy people are at 100.

 

And we realized the tank had run out.
And we switched it out.

And we realized how much he was dependent on the oxygen then.

 

He struggled some more to breath.
And Jacob came home from a play date with his best friend.

And Bradley knew that we were all home.

 

And Bradley squeaked between the gasps.
Sounded like he was trying to talk to us.

 

And he was given a blessing.
And Tom knew it was getting close.

And he gasped and we turned up the oxygen even higher.

 

And he wore his pulse ox consistently, for the first time in his life, in my home.

I have never liked his medical equipment.

I loathe it.

And I let him wear the probe continuously only
so I would know when he was passing.

 

And he dropped to 25, even with the oxygen, and I knew it would be soon.

And Tom woke the big kids up.

And I told them Bradley was passing.

And they cried and held his hands and feet.

And I stroked his head.

And I called my Mom and she facetimed with Bradley as he faded.

 

And as he took his last few breaths, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

And suddenly his heart rate was at a zero too.

 

And he was gone.

 

 

And the grief flowed freely from us all.

The kids called his name and asked him not to go.

But he was gone.

 

I picked him up.

He was a rag doll in my arms.

And he was gone.

At exactly 1:30am he had returned to his heavenly home.

 

And I was left his earthly body.

And I took the body to his room.

Jacob wanted him to stay with him one more night.

And I changed the sheets and his socks and wrapped a blanket all around him.

And I laid him down on his bed.
 And he and Jacob spent their last earthly night next to each other.

 

And they picked his body up this morning.
And the zipper of the body bag was so loud.

 

My tiny son is gone for now.
But I will see him again.

I will see that strong young man, I've seen before in my dreams.

The attractive young man who looks like Tom.

The one with the handsome smile.

And I am grateful for the tender mercies of his passing.

 

He died in my bed, like I had wanted.

 Only a few feet from where he was born.

We were all around him.

And he was and is resting in peace.