Sunday July 1st, 2007

Today was a special day. This afternoon all 4 grandparents (parents at the time) came to visit the hospital room. The simple fact is that the hospital room is pretty boring. The mama Ali has been spending a lot of time napping (because she always in bed) and when there’s no one in there with us, it gets boring. For me, mornings are the worst. For her, all day is the worst. However, the fun part is when we get visitors. Today we get several!

When all of the parents arrived, there of course was the normal talk about the mama Ali and the baby. However, that soon stopped and it turned to other topics. “Did you hear about what the mayor said last week?” “That construction project on the interstate is never going to be finished!” 3 of 4 parents are retired teachers and the 4th also worked for the city, so they spent lots of time complaining about how their old jobs sucked and how things have gone to hell in their respective cities since they left. It felt great. It was normal conversation that made it feel like a normal Sunday get together. I almost forgot I was in the hospital – almost.

Something else weird happened that afternoon. When the nurse came in to check the vitals, I asked her to hook up the fetal monitor. For some reason that I don’t understand today, I was proud of hearing that heartbeat and wanted the future grandparents to hear it. I don’t know why I was so anxious for everyone to hear it. The baby was totally healthy and had solid vitals the entire pregnancy. There really is no discussion to occur. “The heartbeat sounds strong today.” “He has his mother’s left ventricle.” “His aortic valve sounds a little weak, but I know some vitamins he can take for that.” Still, I wanted them to hear. The heart was still beating. Occasionally there would be a hiccup. For some reason I felt proud. I still do today, but now I have a reason.

Eventually I was time for my parents to go. Everyone had come to a consensus that the schools sucked back in the day and will continue to suck in the future. My in laws stuck around and tried to straighten up the room since we were going to be there for a while. More than anyone else I’ve ever met, they truly seem to enjoy the act of cleaning. Everyone enjoys being in a clean place, but they genuinely enjoy the act of getting someplace clean. I don’t mind and they do good work. However, before they finish it’s time for me to go.

I was at the hospital from lunchtime Friday until dinnertime Sunday, but it I time to go. Outside of this hospital, the world still rotates and life goes on. My job still operates and I get paid to be there. It’s time to go to my house and get ready for tomorrow. First, I have to say goodbye. How do I say that? She knows I love her more than ever and she loves me back. We are thankful for each other and know it. We are both scared and know it. We will miss each other over the next day and know it. There is absolutely nothing either of us can say that we don’t already intimately know. We are both crying so hard that to this day I don’t remember if we actually said anything, but I remember that we didn’t need to.

An hour later I am at my house. I call it my house because I am homeless. My home has life, this place is dead. My home smells like food at 7pm. This place has no smell. My home has dogs running around. This place doesn’t even have bugs running around. My home has a wife nagging me about bills. This place is totally silent……….




I go through the motions of laundry and showering (I really needed one). And then what? Of course I cry, but now for selfish reasons. I am more alone than I have ever been in my life. Even when I’ve been alone before I had options. I could see a friend or visit family. Today I am a gray cloud that would ruin the mood of anyone I visit. I can’t even invite anyone over the my house because the place is such a mess. Someone needs to clean this place up….and that means me. It’s mine now. All mine. I get to run the house. I have to run the house. There’s a stack of bills to be paid. I have plenty of laundry to do. I have to run this house alone after doing it 50/50 for years. I have complained in the past when her laundry interferes with mine. We always negotiate which bills will be paid by whom this month. We always fight about the thermostat. If I sit here feeling sorry for myself for the next – next whatever, there won’t be house to bring her back to.

It’s time to start feeling sorry for myself. I have a very important job to do and I am not strong enough to look her in the eye and tell her I can’t do it. Her car isn’t going anywhere (I don’t remember how or when I took it from the hospital), but I’m still paying insurance? My house is only 80 degrees in FL in July and I haven’t been here in 2 days! (in case you don’t know 80 degrees is cold for FL) Her lifeline to the world is a cell phone that the bill hasn’t been paid on! I don’t know what the future holds, but my only choices are that I can let it happen or make it happen. I go to bed that night knowing that if my wife has the strength to lie in bed all day, then I have got to have the strength to man up. Monday is going to be a very busy day.