27 February 2009
The answer to the ultime question of life, the universe, and everything (in 100 words)
After reading The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, I went in search for the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything myself, because I am a skeptic. What I found is nothing short of shocking- the answer is definitely not 42. In the last thirty years, I climbed a pyramid, visited the Louvre, ran with the bulls, walked on the Moon, circled Mars, and ate a chocolate covered cricket. But all this time, the answer was so obvious! And finally, the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything is-
26 February 2009
I wasn't in the mood for wichita
My limbs turned red
Under the orange sun and
Even the leaves turned yellow.
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
The grass smiled green
At the perfect blue skies
Dreaming of navy nights,
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
Now my limbs lie stiff
With dense purple sky overhead
And I can't stand the chill
Of the damp purple night,
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
So I linger where I land
And wait in silence
For that orange sun to turn my limbs again.
Under the orange sun and
Even the leaves turned yellow.
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
The grass smiled green
At the perfect blue skies
Dreaming of navy nights,
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
Now my limbs lie stiff
With dense purple sky overhead
And I can't stand the chill
Of the damp purple night,
But I wasn't in the mood for wichita.
So I linger where I land
And wait in silence
For that orange sun to turn my limbs again.
Out came my left lung
Then the kidney
the whites of my ribs
Sharply contrasted against
My AB+ blood.
The heart was still pumping
And I was still laughing
Soon my right lung creeped
From under my ribs
To the outside.
My other kidney and my
Diseased liver
All creeped out and
Stained the carpet red
With my universal receiver blood.
But I just kept laughing
and my side kept splitting.
Then the kidney
the whites of my ribs
Sharply contrasted against
My AB+ blood.
The heart was still pumping
And I was still laughing
Soon my right lung creeped
From under my ribs
To the outside.
My other kidney and my
Diseased liver
All creeped out and
Stained the carpet red
With my universal receiver blood.
But I just kept laughing
and my side kept splitting.
25 February 2009
Promises
The crowd shrouded in black and grief
Walk across the muted grass.
Leaving in silence
Refusing to look back.
And I stand alone
Under the shy sun and sleeping clouds.
Above the dirt above the dead,
Above you.
The crowd shrouded in black and grief
Part ways to return to their lives.
The tombstone reads In Loving Memory
Here Lies Son, Friend, lover.
All I see is Liar, Liar, Liar.
The ground opened her dark mouth and
Swallowed you whole. Bones, flesh, finest suit, finest flower.
Untimely death
Rest in Peace.
Son. Friend. Lover.
Liar. Liar. Liar.
Under the same blue sky you took my hand
Took my heart, took my soul, and gave me yours
You promised forever.
Instead of your charcoal grey eyes
Cold cherry wood coffin stare back from its
Final resting place.
Liar.
You promised me forever. And ever. And ever.
Walk across the muted grass.
Leaving in silence
Refusing to look back.
And I stand alone
Under the shy sun and sleeping clouds.
Above the dirt above the dead,
Above you.
The crowd shrouded in black and grief
Part ways to return to their lives.
The tombstone reads In Loving Memory
Here Lies Son, Friend, lover.
All I see is Liar, Liar, Liar.
The ground opened her dark mouth and
Swallowed you whole. Bones, flesh, finest suit, finest flower.
Untimely death
Rest in Peace.
Son. Friend. Lover.
Liar. Liar. Liar.
Under the same blue sky you took my hand
Took my heart, took my soul, and gave me yours
You promised forever.
Instead of your charcoal grey eyes
Cold cherry wood coffin stare back from its
Final resting place.
Liar.
You promised me forever. And ever. And ever.
One Art
I opened my eyes to the fluorescent lights of the hospital ceiling flashing by like headlights on a dark night. Damn it…I’m still alive. “You-are-going-to-be-okay,” said a foreign face. I wanted to say I’m not deaf. “We’re gonna get your baby out,” I wanted to ask ‘what baby?’ Then everything went black. What do you do when the love of your life suddenly leaves you?
* * *
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no great disaster.
Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
* * *
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered quietly.
“Mmm, were you watching me again?” I slurred. Eyes still glued shut, I could only feel the light of the sun creeping onto the bed. The warm light of the yellow sun, making everything glow, inching its way closer to our bare skins.
“Of course not…I was gazing at you lovingly,” he ran his hand along my stomach. I opened my eyes and turned my head. My eyes met his grey ones, clear and bright. I couldn’t help but smile and kiss his lips.
“I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around my body, pressed his cheek into mine, and held me like it was the last time he would hold me. He stroked my hair, and then parted my lips with his soft tongue. His hand ran down my back and along my thigh. His soft warm body pressed gently into mine, and in the illuminating glory of the morning sun, we welcomed our first morning as husband and wife, and made love.
* * *
“How are you?” Lately everyone’s been asking me.
“I’m good…how are you?” I’d fake a smile, a laugh. Anything to get that sympathetic looks off of their faces.
“How’s the baby?” I got that a lot too. I was twice my size, hadn’t seen my ankles in weeks, and I had a huge craving for beef jerky and pickles.
“Baby’s good, baby’s getting heavy,” I hated the baby. I despised it. I didn’t want anything to do with it. It reminded me every day of Christian.
* * *
The sky was starting to turn into brilliant shades of red and orange, I could feel a warm breeze gently swimming around us, and on the sand he dropped to his right knee and held my hands.
“You have made me so happy since the day I met you. I love you so much, you mean the world to me, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” he looked up into my eyes with his steel grey ones. “Will you marry me and make me the happiest person?” He held out a ring, and my eyes filled with tears.
“Yes…yes yes yes yes yes!” I dropped to my knees, and I kissed his face. I kissed his entire face. He put the ring on my finger, and we held each other in tightly, completely missed the sunset, and got wet from the wave that came crashing into the sand like a train. But it didn’t matter, because together we were invincible.
* * *
“How are you?”
“Fat.” She laughed.
“Are you exercising?”
“I try, but it’s getting so big,” I looked down at my enormous belly protruding through my shirt.
“Shall we take a look?” She was always too bubbly. I nodded. She rubbed cold jelly on my bare stomach, and an image popped up on the screen.
“He’s changed positions, you have an active baby.” Yes, I knew, I felt the kicks.
* * *
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! My last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
* * *
“Dearly beloved,” started the priest, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy matrimony.” I looked at Christian standing beside me, and couldn’t help but get lost in his deep loving eyes, and lost track of what the priest was saying. “I therefore charge both of you that if you know any reason why you should not be joined in marriage, you should make it known at this time.” At this we turned at each other, and smiled, then we nodded for the priest to continue.
* * *
“FIX YOUR OWN GODDAMN FOOD, ARE YOU MISSING AN ARM OR A LEG?”
“It’d be nice to come home to warm food and a clean house once in a while” he said.
“DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD LIKE TO COME HOME TO WARM FOOD AND A CLEAN HOUSE TOO? I CAN’T BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE?” I screamed from the top of my lungs. “I’m only one person…WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING COME HOME EARLY AND DO ALL THAT CRAP YOURSELF?” I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I threw the phone across the room, screamed nonsense at the door, plopped onto the bed and cried.
Maybe all their doubts had been right. All my fears were starting to come true. We were wrong and they were right. They were right when they said six months wasn’t enough time to know someone. Six months wasn’t enough time to fall in love. Six months wasn’t how the rest of our lives were going to be. We made a huge mistake and we didn’t listen, and now we had this marriage on our hands, way out of control, and no way to tame it. I cried, and I heaved, and I sighed, and somewhere between the constant beeping of the phone off its hook and my irregular breathing, I fell asleep.
I woke up to the warm hand at my waist. I smiled before I realized I was still mad. I pulled away and sat up. I looked at him, waiting to speak. I wasn’t going to crack. I wasn’t going to crack.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He looked down at his hands, gently tugging at the loose feathers from the comforter. My throat choked up. “I was just tired, I had a long day at work, and I don’t know, my brain just stopped functioning.” He looked up at me. His eyes slightly glazed over. Just as the silence was starting to become unbearable, I worked up the courage to talk without bursting into tears again.
“You know I have a job too, I can’t…I can’t…I’m sorry I’m not as perfect as you want…” I said to my knee.
“But you are perfect.” He leaned in towards me, looked at my face, and offered his hand. I leaned my face into his palm, and let a tear roll from my eye. He pulled me into his chest and held me tight. I could feel his heart beating against my cheek, and drop after drop, tears fell onto his shirt. “I love you.” He kissed my forehead and pressed me into his body. I looked up and caressed his cheek, and through my tear stricken face, smiled. He kissed my lips, wiped away the trail of tears on my cheeks and kissed me again.
All my doubts and fears melted away with his kiss. We peeled off our clothes and let our skins melt, our bones intertwine, and our hearts race as one again. Nothing changed, but everything was better.
* * *
“I take thee, Christian, to be my lawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and all these witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your wife in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.” Pause for a smile and a breath, “I further promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve higher goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”
I only saw his eyes and his bright smile. I took his hand and placed the shiny ring, the ring we had chosen so carefully together, on his finger and said, “With this ring I thee wed. Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.” We were only one kiss away from becoming one, and everything lost its form through my wet eyes.
“You may now seal the promises you have made with each other with a kiss.”
As if afraid I would suddenly change my mind, Christian quickly and swiftly leaned in, pulled me by my waist and kissed my lips warmly, passionately, lovingly.
As long as we both shall live, we were supposed to be together.
* * *
I looked down at our wedding band. It had the words “I Love You” etched on the inside. I traced it with my index finger as I held it in my hand, and then rubbed my fat stomach. I looked out the car windshield into the darkness that was the consistency of black velvet curtains, broken only by the headlight beams from my car.
It had been seven months since he left. I still remembered the night like it had just happened. I was so angry with him for leaving me. After all he said, after all the pretty promises he made, he still left me. Despite it all I still would have traded anything to have him back. And the baby, the stupid baby, I would’ve traded the stupid baby to have my Christian back. I didn’t want my heart to beat anymore, if it wasn’t beating next his. I brushed away the lone tear, put the ring back on my finger, and drove through the rails into the water.
* * *
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
--Elizabeth Bishop ‘One Art’
* * *
“I made dinner, so drive fast.”
“What did you make?”
“It’s a surprise.” I had just found out I was pregnant. I prepared baby corn, and baby carrots, and a game hen, and baby shrimp, and fruit punch, and I was going to tell him that our family of two was about to be a family of three. I had a tiny life growing inside me. “And I don’t mean the kind of surprise they make at school cafeterias, I mean the good kind. The kind where I spent lots of time barefooted over the hot stove, so you’d better not ruin it by being late. Okay?”
”Ooh, sounds nice. I’ll just ignore the speed limits along the way. I love you.” I could almost hear him smile.
“I love you too. Bye.”
“Bye.”
If I had known that was going to be the last time I talked to him, I would’ve told him just how much I loved him. If I had known that was going to be the last time I heard his voice, I wouldn’t’ve hung up. If I had known that that morning was going to be the last time I’d see him walk out the door, I would’ve walked with him. If only I had known that was going to be the last time he kissed me, I would remember it. Instead, I pranced about the kitchen, silly and giggly as a schoolgirl, smiling about what a wonderful change this was going to be.
When the police finally found me after their initial call that brought me to the sickeningly white hospital, I was wandering the halls like a lost child. They told me the suicidal cyclist died at the site of the accident. They called it an “accident” even though it was clear as day that the cyclist had intended to drive into my husband, the cyclist had intended to cause me this much misery. They had Christian in surgery for over five hours. I occupied the waiting room like a mad woman, standing with glazed eyes one minute, and chasing after any nurse or doctor that seemed to know anything at all.
* * *
We had a white wedding. The little church that overlooked the beach was decorated with white lilies and roses, and long white chiffon draped across the ceiling, like soft clouds over our heads. The guests arrived slowly in chatty groups, dressed up in their best clothing, eager to talk about how awkward I was as a teenager or how adorable our baby would be. I peeped out from the dressing room, heart racing faster than a rabbit’s, waiting for something to go wrong. What if his parents suddenly realized I wasn’t good enough for him? What if I forget to breathe and collapse? What if I trip! What if Christian didn’t show up? With all my fears and doubts tucked in under my layers of hair spray and veil, I walked down the aisle with my hand resting on my father’s arm.
I looked up and saw my best friends and my sister dressed in light blue bride’s maid’s dresses. I saw the priest standing with the bible in hand, indifferent to my trivial worries. Then I saw Christian standing at the altar with a broad smile.
* * *
The bluish tint of the moon is barely reaching the window.
“… How are you feeling? That was quite an accident you had,” says the subdued but still too bubbly voice from my left. I turn my head to see the doctor. She smiles at me.
“We have good news. Despite the severity of your accident, you and the baby are both in good health.” The baby?
“The baby?”
“Yes, would you like to see him now?” The baby? “Bring him in.” And before I realized what she was talking about, she places a blue bundle of blankets in my arms. The nurses and doctors stand and watch. The baby just looks at me. He has eyes like Christian. And his nose, oh his nose was just like Christian’s nose, so cute and kissable. His little hand reaches for my face. With his grey round eyes staring up at me, I take a hold of his little hand and smile.
“Hello Christian. Welcome to the world.” Nothing’s changed, but suddenly everything is better.
* * *
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no great disaster.
Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
* * *
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered quietly.
“Mmm, were you watching me again?” I slurred. Eyes still glued shut, I could only feel the light of the sun creeping onto the bed. The warm light of the yellow sun, making everything glow, inching its way closer to our bare skins.
“Of course not…I was gazing at you lovingly,” he ran his hand along my stomach. I opened my eyes and turned my head. My eyes met his grey ones, clear and bright. I couldn’t help but smile and kiss his lips.
“I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around my body, pressed his cheek into mine, and held me like it was the last time he would hold me. He stroked my hair, and then parted my lips with his soft tongue. His hand ran down my back and along my thigh. His soft warm body pressed gently into mine, and in the illuminating glory of the morning sun, we welcomed our first morning as husband and wife, and made love.
* * *
“How are you?” Lately everyone’s been asking me.
“I’m good…how are you?” I’d fake a smile, a laugh. Anything to get that sympathetic looks off of their faces.
“How’s the baby?” I got that a lot too. I was twice my size, hadn’t seen my ankles in weeks, and I had a huge craving for beef jerky and pickles.
“Baby’s good, baby’s getting heavy,” I hated the baby. I despised it. I didn’t want anything to do with it. It reminded me every day of Christian.
* * *
The sky was starting to turn into brilliant shades of red and orange, I could feel a warm breeze gently swimming around us, and on the sand he dropped to his right knee and held my hands.
“You have made me so happy since the day I met you. I love you so much, you mean the world to me, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” he looked up into my eyes with his steel grey ones. “Will you marry me and make me the happiest person?” He held out a ring, and my eyes filled with tears.
“Yes…yes yes yes yes yes!” I dropped to my knees, and I kissed his face. I kissed his entire face. He put the ring on my finger, and we held each other in tightly, completely missed the sunset, and got wet from the wave that came crashing into the sand like a train. But it didn’t matter, because together we were invincible.
* * *
“How are you?”
“Fat.” She laughed.
“Are you exercising?”
“I try, but it’s getting so big,” I looked down at my enormous belly protruding through my shirt.
“Shall we take a look?” She was always too bubbly. I nodded. She rubbed cold jelly on my bare stomach, and an image popped up on the screen.
“He’s changed positions, you have an active baby.” Yes, I knew, I felt the kicks.
* * *
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! My last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
* * *
“Dearly beloved,” started the priest, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy matrimony.” I looked at Christian standing beside me, and couldn’t help but get lost in his deep loving eyes, and lost track of what the priest was saying. “I therefore charge both of you that if you know any reason why you should not be joined in marriage, you should make it known at this time.” At this we turned at each other, and smiled, then we nodded for the priest to continue.
* * *
“FIX YOUR OWN GODDAMN FOOD, ARE YOU MISSING AN ARM OR A LEG?”
“It’d be nice to come home to warm food and a clean house once in a while” he said.
“DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD LIKE TO COME HOME TO WARM FOOD AND A CLEAN HOUSE TOO? I CAN’T BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE?” I screamed from the top of my lungs. “I’m only one person…WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING COME HOME EARLY AND DO ALL THAT CRAP YOURSELF?” I stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I threw the phone across the room, screamed nonsense at the door, plopped onto the bed and cried.
Maybe all their doubts had been right. All my fears were starting to come true. We were wrong and they were right. They were right when they said six months wasn’t enough time to know someone. Six months wasn’t enough time to fall in love. Six months wasn’t how the rest of our lives were going to be. We made a huge mistake and we didn’t listen, and now we had this marriage on our hands, way out of control, and no way to tame it. I cried, and I heaved, and I sighed, and somewhere between the constant beeping of the phone off its hook and my irregular breathing, I fell asleep.
I woke up to the warm hand at my waist. I smiled before I realized I was still mad. I pulled away and sat up. I looked at him, waiting to speak. I wasn’t going to crack. I wasn’t going to crack.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He looked down at his hands, gently tugging at the loose feathers from the comforter. My throat choked up. “I was just tired, I had a long day at work, and I don’t know, my brain just stopped functioning.” He looked up at me. His eyes slightly glazed over. Just as the silence was starting to become unbearable, I worked up the courage to talk without bursting into tears again.
“You know I have a job too, I can’t…I can’t…I’m sorry I’m not as perfect as you want…” I said to my knee.
“But you are perfect.” He leaned in towards me, looked at my face, and offered his hand. I leaned my face into his palm, and let a tear roll from my eye. He pulled me into his chest and held me tight. I could feel his heart beating against my cheek, and drop after drop, tears fell onto his shirt. “I love you.” He kissed my forehead and pressed me into his body. I looked up and caressed his cheek, and through my tear stricken face, smiled. He kissed my lips, wiped away the trail of tears on my cheeks and kissed me again.
All my doubts and fears melted away with his kiss. We peeled off our clothes and let our skins melt, our bones intertwine, and our hearts race as one again. Nothing changed, but everything was better.
* * *
“I take thee, Christian, to be my lawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and all these witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your wife in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad.” Pause for a smile and a breath, “I further promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve higher goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”
I only saw his eyes and his bright smile. I took his hand and placed the shiny ring, the ring we had chosen so carefully together, on his finger and said, “With this ring I thee wed. Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.” We were only one kiss away from becoming one, and everything lost its form through my wet eyes.
“You may now seal the promises you have made with each other with a kiss.”
As if afraid I would suddenly change my mind, Christian quickly and swiftly leaned in, pulled me by my waist and kissed my lips warmly, passionately, lovingly.
As long as we both shall live, we were supposed to be together.
* * *
I looked down at our wedding band. It had the words “I Love You” etched on the inside. I traced it with my index finger as I held it in my hand, and then rubbed my fat stomach. I looked out the car windshield into the darkness that was the consistency of black velvet curtains, broken only by the headlight beams from my car.
It had been seven months since he left. I still remembered the night like it had just happened. I was so angry with him for leaving me. After all he said, after all the pretty promises he made, he still left me. Despite it all I still would have traded anything to have him back. And the baby, the stupid baby, I would’ve traded the stupid baby to have my Christian back. I didn’t want my heart to beat anymore, if it wasn’t beating next his. I brushed away the lone tear, put the ring back on my finger, and drove through the rails into the water.
* * *
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
--Elizabeth Bishop ‘One Art’
* * *
“I made dinner, so drive fast.”
“What did you make?”
“It’s a surprise.” I had just found out I was pregnant. I prepared baby corn, and baby carrots, and a game hen, and baby shrimp, and fruit punch, and I was going to tell him that our family of two was about to be a family of three. I had a tiny life growing inside me. “And I don’t mean the kind of surprise they make at school cafeterias, I mean the good kind. The kind where I spent lots of time barefooted over the hot stove, so you’d better not ruin it by being late. Okay?”
”Ooh, sounds nice. I’ll just ignore the speed limits along the way. I love you.” I could almost hear him smile.
“I love you too. Bye.”
“Bye.”
If I had known that was going to be the last time I talked to him, I would’ve told him just how much I loved him. If I had known that was going to be the last time I heard his voice, I wouldn’t’ve hung up. If I had known that that morning was going to be the last time I’d see him walk out the door, I would’ve walked with him. If only I had known that was going to be the last time he kissed me, I would remember it. Instead, I pranced about the kitchen, silly and giggly as a schoolgirl, smiling about what a wonderful change this was going to be.
When the police finally found me after their initial call that brought me to the sickeningly white hospital, I was wandering the halls like a lost child. They told me the suicidal cyclist died at the site of the accident. They called it an “accident” even though it was clear as day that the cyclist had intended to drive into my husband, the cyclist had intended to cause me this much misery. They had Christian in surgery for over five hours. I occupied the waiting room like a mad woman, standing with glazed eyes one minute, and chasing after any nurse or doctor that seemed to know anything at all.
* * *
We had a white wedding. The little church that overlooked the beach was decorated with white lilies and roses, and long white chiffon draped across the ceiling, like soft clouds over our heads. The guests arrived slowly in chatty groups, dressed up in their best clothing, eager to talk about how awkward I was as a teenager or how adorable our baby would be. I peeped out from the dressing room, heart racing faster than a rabbit’s, waiting for something to go wrong. What if his parents suddenly realized I wasn’t good enough for him? What if I forget to breathe and collapse? What if I trip! What if Christian didn’t show up? With all my fears and doubts tucked in under my layers of hair spray and veil, I walked down the aisle with my hand resting on my father’s arm.
I looked up and saw my best friends and my sister dressed in light blue bride’s maid’s dresses. I saw the priest standing with the bible in hand, indifferent to my trivial worries. Then I saw Christian standing at the altar with a broad smile.
* * *
The bluish tint of the moon is barely reaching the window.
“… How are you feeling? That was quite an accident you had,” says the subdued but still too bubbly voice from my left. I turn my head to see the doctor. She smiles at me.
“We have good news. Despite the severity of your accident, you and the baby are both in good health.” The baby?
“The baby?”
“Yes, would you like to see him now?” The baby? “Bring him in.” And before I realized what she was talking about, she places a blue bundle of blankets in my arms. The nurses and doctors stand and watch. The baby just looks at me. He has eyes like Christian. And his nose, oh his nose was just like Christian’s nose, so cute and kissable. His little hand reaches for my face. With his grey round eyes staring up at me, I take a hold of his little hand and smile.
“Hello Christian. Welcome to the world.” Nothing’s changed, but suddenly everything is better.
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