Rest in peace, Markie....
this was written by my husband just this evening. thank you, for putting into words what i could not express. it has been a long, and draining, day. this was a special little boy ( not the one i posted about once before, who could possibly have cancer ). he had the cutest voice, another neighbor refrenced it to a " muppet voice ".i held his mom after they pronounced him gone ( i can not say the "D" word ). i was with her while they were pumping his little chest, and giving him epi to get his heart started again. i was there to witness a grief so raw, that i will never forget this day as long as i live. i held her as she wept. i stayed with her as she held her first born in her arms. i tried to imagine the grief she was feeling, and i could not. no matter how hard i tried, i could just not imagine losing a child. i listened to her blame herself , because she could have done "more". there was nothing anyone could have done for this little boy. the chaplain brought a passage from the bible. what it says basically is that God knows, from the time you are created, how many days you will be on earth. God needed this little boy in Heaven. he will be missed, he will always be rememberd and loved. and we were all better for knowing him, and having him in our lives......The ambulance came around the corner, sirens blaring. Following close behind, a fire rescue vehicle. Then two more red trucks, pick-ups with trained medics.
They pulled up in front of the house and raced in as quickly as they could, hauling leather and plastic cases. Stethoscopes hung around their necks and their hands were covered with baby blue rubber gloves.
He was upstairs, in the bedroom he shared with his younger brother, younger by 19 months.
When they entered the room, his Mother was bent over him, blowing air into his lungs, trying as any Mother would to help her son. With each breath she forced into his lungs, the pushing on his tiny chest release the breath with a deep gurgling sound.
The paramedics relieved her of this duty as soon as they arrived.
It was apparent that his breathing had stopped, and after checking they found his tiny heart had stopped beating on it’s own.
They quickly inserted a tube into his lungs and began pumping the rubber bag attached to it, all the while making baby like compression on his chest.
After a short while, 10-15 minutes, maybe, they loaded him on the stretcher and took him to the hospital.
His Mother jumped into the car with my wife and the two of them followed the ambulance as closely as they could.
The young man had a bad cough and temperature this past Sunday. His Mom took him to the doctor, where he was examined and sent home to rest, drink plenty of liquids and allow this virus to pass.
Two days later, his fever broke and his Mom was certain he would be feeling better in a day or two. But, yesterday, his chest was heavy with a cough, and he wasn’t feeling well enough to eat.
This morning, he told his Mom he felt better, got dressed, went downstairs to eat some breakfast with his little brother and baby sister. He was tired.
He asked his Mom if he could go and lay down. Noticing that he appeared a bit weak, his Mom helped him up the stairs to his room, she helped him get his t-shirt on and lay down with him. As soon as his head lay flat, he stopped breathing.
I got the call from my wife about 45 minutes after they left for the hospital, he was going to be transported to the hospital in Ann Arbor, he was a bit more stable than when they had left the boys home.
I felt relieved at that news and went and told the neighbors, the ones watching his younger brother and sister. There was a definite sigh of relief that he was being considered stable enough to transport
I sat down to swallow a couple more sips of coffee, smoke a cigarette, and wait for my wife to call me back with an update.
She did, about 20 minutes later, and the news was not good.
This little boy…the one that loved to play and laugh. The boy that was enthralled by Mister Monster’s remote controlled car; the same little boy that innocently asked me if I was the birthday boy, the night before my surprise party. The boy with the sweet smile and high pitched voice, that little angel of a man, had just been pronounced dead.
When I got to the hospital, he was wrapped in a hospital blanket, laying across his mother’s lap, as she sobbed uncontrollably. She would reach down and kiss the top of his head, or stroke the hair on the side of his head. She tried not to look at his lifeless face, (he still had the intubation tube in his mouth.) All she could do was question herself, hold her son, and cry.
Her husband had been notified that his son was sick and had been taken to the hospital, but the decision was made to not tell him about his son’s death. He was driving back from an out of town business trip, and we didn’t think it wise to tell him that his son had passed while he was driving at 70 mph down the freeway.
His Dad got to the hospital and was informed of what had happened. And he wept!
A couple of other neighbors were there with my wife and I to act as a support system for this Mother and Father. We stayed until they were ready to leave the hospital.
So this evening our cul-de-sac, normally filled with holiday plans and cheer, normally planning another joyous get-together of some sort. Tonight we all mourn the loss of four and half year old, Mark.
Rest well tonight little man.
Be with God and his Angels…and know that we all loved you!!!
We’ll do whatever we can to help your Mom and Dad, your little brother and sister.
We will be here for them.
Be at Peace, Markie…
posted by Cynnie01 @ 10:52 PM
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