The Hospital Bed : A Mother's Regret

For the mothers, fathers, siblings, relatives and friends who feel they are too busy to spend time with their loved ones....

 

She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. That feeling of dread when one knows something is not right. The business attired woman burst through the hospital doors as sounds of agony induced moans, crying mothers, and chattering nurses attacked her ears with reckless abandon. Tears flowed slowly from her eyes while making her way towards the front desk, praying to the only God she's ever known that she would not have to join the dismal symphony by adding her own sorrowful instrument. The receptionist glanced at the impassioned woman passively. For some reason, the heavy set phone operator didn't like the professional Black woman. She had a look of arrogant pride about her that spoke volumes of how badly she treated people, but now needed help in her own time of need. "Serves her right," she thought silently. She then went about giving her the scripted dialog all patrons of the hospital received. "Welcome to West Suburban. How may I help you?" The now weeping mother spoke slow and sullenly. "Ma'am, my son was just received about 15 minutes ago from a car accident. I'm Torii, his name is Michael Carter. He's 16, about 5'9, slender...please, tell me where I can find him." Suddenly, the receptionist's demeanor became one of concern. She remembered the handsome, dark-skinned boy who was bloodied to from head to toe with a few broken bones and how bad she felt for the youth. She jumped into action. "Yes ma'am! He's right this way, but first protocol dictates that you have to sign these forms and...". Torii snapped, unable to contain her enraged concern any longer. "B***H, MY BABY IS IN THERE DYIN'! DO IT LOOK LIKE I GOT TIME TO BE FILLIN' OUT SOME F****N' FORMS?!" The entire waiting room became silent and frozen. The receptionist was in shock, but allowed the woman past. She knew Torii meant no harm, but understood the panic she felt. Torii came back to her senses. "I apologize. I just...I just need to see my child." The operator simply nodded at the pleading woman as she ran through the hallways with the nauseating fumes of antiseptics entering her nostrils before finally reaching the end where her child lay on a bed, nurses surrounding his battered body. "Michael!", she screamed out before running over. The nurses moved out of her way as the doctor waved them out of the room so that the pair could spend this sensitive moment in peace. He knew the boy wasn't going to make, but the woman had a glistening sparkle of death in her eyes for anyone in her path and he didn't want any parts of that. She approached cautiously, not wanting to arouse any sudden movements in the boy as she stopped herself from crying just long enough to stroke his head. His eyes opened revealing just how weak he was. It was established at that moment between the two of them that he wasn't going home with her tonight, and only God helped her maintain her sanity. "Mom...is that you?" His voice crackled when he spoke. "Yes, darling...its me...its me. I'm here, baby." His eyes became harsh. "What are you doing here? I thought you had to meet Jake for dinner and hang out with your friends after work?" The pain that she felt at the moment can only be described as a tiger tearing her entrails to shreds. "Baby! Do you think that those things are more important than me being here with you right now?" The boy continued his attack. "Oh, cut the crap, mom. You do it all the time. Work, party, boyfriend, even other people's children, they've all come before me prior to. Why should this time be any different? Why does it take something this horrific for you to spend time with me?" Michael was crying now. "Michael, that is not..." It hit her. He was right. She never took the time out of her busy life to be a "mommy". She was too busy doing what she wanted, allowing most of the boy's upbringing to be done by his aunts and nanny. "Oh, my God. Michael, I'm so sorry. I'm so...I'm so sorry, baby. What have I been doing all of this time? God, give me another chance, please? Please, just one more!" She became hysterical, and Michael's vision began to fade, a smile etching itself into his features. He took her hand. "Its okay, mom. I forgive you. I just wish...I just wish I had more good memories of us to take with me. But I do forgive you. I love you, mommy." And then he died. After that night, Torii would need psychiatric treatment for the next five years, but even then, she was unable to ever forgive herself.

 

Moral : Take the time out of your "busy" life, and be there for the ones who matter most. Cause there are no second chances on the hospital bed. Make sure there are no regrets.