Swallow

This is a letter I wrote to Nickolas on October 19, 2010. I still have flashbacks to these times. I still have so many sad memories around food and Nick's desire to eat so badly and yet, he struggled to eat and continued to lose precious pounds. If there is one story about Nick and food during his time fighting his leukemia, there are probably one hundred. I don't know what to say anymore. I am so tired. The memories so painful...

Dearest Nickolas,

I am thinking of you this morning, well, really this afternoon. Whenever I am here alone, I think of the mornings it would be just you and me here in the house; a treasured day, when we didn’t have to go down to the hospital. A day we could just stay home and enjoy the time together away from the pain and the sorrow of the clinic.

I remember we would both sleep in and sometimes I would even get up before you because you were lying in your bed reading or thinking or just taking your time to think about getting up.

I remember when I would try to cook you breakfast, sausage or toast or something, usually with hot tea.

I remember when we would watch Price Is Right on the tv and we would try to guess the prices and see who was right.

I remember feeling so good to have you near and have you home, snuggle up on the couch.

I remember how you would like to watch the birds out of the window and we would listen to their voices singing and the blue jays squawking.

I can picture you wearing your blue furry shirt and your knit cap.

I wish I could remember more…it doesn’t seem like much. It makes me so sad. I miss you so much.

It was always so good to have you at home where you belonged. I remember how you always looked forward to eating whatever your Dad would fix for you.

How sad that “eating” has to become a treasured past time that we learn we have taken for granted, as you wasted away to skin and bone, while your lungs were dying even as we all chewed and swallowed the lumps in our throats and the pain in our hearts.

I love you my sweet son. I miss you more with every passing day. Please come home soon. Mom