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Photobucket
Photobucket
"stepping out on my own"
Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Nothing kills me more than seeing something so fragile, something so small and helpless, on the brink of death and knowing that you can do nothing to save it.

I could only watch as he took his last breaths, labouring against unimaginable pain as he gasped for air, his deflated chest rising ever so clearly with each struggle against death.

I could not bear to touch him, afraid that if I did, his fragile body would crumble and cease to exist.

His squeaks for help were silent, even though he exerted all the energy that he could muster to try and call out for someone to help him. I was there, watching him as he did, wishing I could help but it was all too late.

He lay still after a last attempt to gasp for air, his collapsing lungs failing to inflate. I could not bear to touch him, his body limp, his eyes open but unable to see. With the towel in my hand, I picked his lifeless shell up and wrapped the soft blue cloth over him.

If only I had not chosen to take him out that day, chosen to close the door to the room instead, chosen to check periodically on him. I know one should not live with regrets and 'what ifs' but how can I not?

26.04.09