November 19, 2011 (4:58 pm)
AJ was crying, and I was at a loss for words. We had not told him that she was dying, we did not have to.
One year earlier, when he was only 3 years old, he had lost a grandfather to cancer and AJ remembered visiting him in the hospital before his passing. Now, I was to drive to the hospital to see his great-grandmother, under all too similar circumstances. I had told him that it was very important that I go see her in the hospital and that I would take him the following day if the doctors could help her “feel better”.
I had given him a hug good-bye, but he ran back to me as I reached for the door, grabbing my leg and begging me to bring him with me. With tears streaming down both cheeks, he looked up at me and told me how badly he wanted to see her and tell her that he loved her.
I made a deal with him: he could give me a kiss and I would give it to her for him. Begrudgingly, he agreed and gave me her kiss, which I later gave to her in turn:
“That first kiss was from me, this one is from AJ. He had insisted on coming, but I had said, ‘No’. He says he loves you.”
I tried my best to give her the same kiss, but I doubt that I did it justice. Still, her heart rate jumped again…just a little bit.