Final Journey

Joseph’s breathing had been agonal for hours. He lay still as a statue in the bed, life slowly fading from his ravaged body. He’d been in our ICU off and on for his whole little life; he and his mother felt like family to the nurses. It was so hard to watch him like this, but I couldn’t think of leaving them now. I knew she would need our support in his final moments.

His mother, bless her soul, looked exhausted. I knew she must need a break, a stretch at least, if not a bowl of soup.

“Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria for a quick bite?” I suggested. “I’ll stay here.”

She gave me a wan smile, looking almost grateful. “Page me if anything happens, ok?”

I nodded.

When she had gone, Joseph and I were alone. He looked tiny in the bed, but his stature did no justice to the impression he’d made on my stalwart nurse’s heart. This remarkable boy had come to mean so much to me. He’d faced more pain than anyone ever deserved, yet his only worries were for his mom. He was an old soul, the toughest kid I’d ever met. And he was waiting for something.

I leaned over and kissed his flushed cheek. “Hey, little monkey,” I whispered, my tears flowing freely. “You can go now. Your mama will be ok. We’ll always miss you, but we’ll never forget you.”

She wasn’t gone long. She’d been crying, but her eyes were dry now. Wordlessly, she lay down in the bed beside him and curled her body around his. Almost instantly, his breathing settled and slowed. The gaps between exhalation and inhalation grew longer. Finally, he took one last breath, and no more. He was gone.