Friday, March 17, 2006
Finally, Dawson's Creek Spin-off: Part II, Conclusion
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One Sunday afternoon, I was giving Box's mom a needed break and keeping Box company. He was still in a coma but no longer in CCICU. Box was able to flail his arms about in agitation (or what we assumed was agitation) and he would occasionally blink. The neurosurgeon was doing rounds and stopped in to check on Box. He asked me how I was related to him and I stated that Box's mom always introduced me to folks as Box's best friend/soul mate/sister/girlfriend/second mother. The Dr. found this a reasonable enough answer and told me that Box had not only sustained the initial brain injury from the accident but had also suffered several strokes because of the injury. He informed me that even if Box did come out of his coma, it was apparent that there would be a significant amount of brain damage and that unfortunately, Box "will never be the same 'Box'" again. I asked him if he had shared this information with Box's mother. He told me that he and several colleagues had told her this and that she always responded that "God would provide them with a miracle". I asked the Dr. if Box could hear me when I spoke to him, to which he responded "Only God and Box know the answer to that." I returned to Box's side, put my head on his sunken chest and said my good-bye. I told him that he had meant the world to me and that I would never let a day go by that I didn't think of him and the joy he had brought me. I apologized for not being strong enough to continue visiting him and supporting him. I then played his favorite song for him one last time, Eric Clapton's Tears in Heaven and when his mother returned a few minutes later, I left quietly. Last I heard, Box did come out of the coma. He spent at least a year in a rehab facility and then returned to his home where his Mom takes care of him. Yesterday, the girl in the park assured me that Box had suffered quite a bit of brain damage and that he was not at all the person I once loved. Somehow I expected this information to be a relief for me as I've wondered over the years if I gave up on Box too soon. But it wasn't a relief ... it saddened me even more. As I watched CJ run and jump around the playground I mourned for not only the death of his Daddy in Heaven but also the life of his "Uncle Box", the one that wanted to take him fishing but can't. I grieved for Hunterman, knowing that he would be such a joy to "Uncle Box" with all of his energy and his love for the outdoors. And yes, I selfishly grieved for the loss of my soul mate/best friend. I was also overcome again with waves of guilt. Guilt for abandoning him; guilt for not staying in touch with his family; guilt for having an amazing family of my own now; guilt for not living up to my designation as soul mate for Box.
1 Comments:
I'm so sorry. We had a similar experience with Husband's sister. She is no longer her self. It's difficult. You're in my prayers, as is Box.
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