Returning Home (Read previous post first)

After getting the boys to their destination, I headed over to the temple. I was so glad to be there. The anxiety left and I was able to feel some peace while I was there. The feeling didn't last as long as I thought it might. I checked the time when I got out. I was looking to see how much time I had to eat the rest of my apple slices before going to pick up the boys. To my dismay - I was already late. How does that happen? It's so not cool to be late for drop off and pick up. Ugh! I hurried to the van, drove over in anxious mode, and then brought the boys home. As soon as I got home Layne's mom conveyed that Layne had not taken the meds she had tried to give him. She said he didn't seem like he was doing very well and he was asking for me. I went down to see him. I didn't get very far before returning back up the stairs for a different kind of medicine that would help with his breathing. It was obvious immediate help was needed. He was somewhat resistant to taking the medication. I didn't know if it was because he just didn't want it, if he was panicked, or if he just didn't understand what was going on. I tried to calmly let him know that what I was giving him would help his breathing and help him to be more calm. I praised him for any effort. He eventually let me give it to him. I think it was the first time that I put the syringe in his mouth and pushed the liquid in underneath his tongue. Well, that's what we were going for...it didn't really make it under his tongue. While I was giving him the medicine he was trying to tell me something else. I couldn't understand what it was...it was sort of a 'haw' sound. Although, I could tell that the word didn't start with 'ha'. It was more like an 'ho' word. I was asking him if he was hot. Did he want a cool cloth? He seemed to not understand why I wasn't understanding. He was also doing something with his hands. I wasn't sure what that was either. I couldn't tell if he was trying to take the medicine and administer it to himself, or if he was trying to take it away...or maybe he was pointing at something...I didn't know. As I was trying to make sense of it all - I finished giving him the meds and saw a relatively quick improvement in his breathing. This brought some relief for me and for his parents as well. The scary part was over and we'd just have to wait for him to stabilize. I went to do something quickly. I think I just took the syringes back upstairs. I don't think I even cleaned them at the time. I also made sure the girls were on their way to their activity. I came back down and was the only one in the room with him. His mother was coming down. I told him I loved him, stroked his arm, and gave him another kiss on his cheek. His eyes seemed to acknowledge my gesture. I turned to look at his chest to check his breathing. It was still. I touched it while looking for any signs of a pulse. Nothing. Odd how eyes can register one thing and in the time it takes to glance somewhere else...nothing registers. His eyes weren't saying anything anymore. I panicked. It's like I knew he was gone but didn't want to believe it. By this time, his mom was in the room. I know because I almost bumped into her as I headed for the stairs to yell for one of the boys to call the emergency number for the hospice group. "Tell them he's not breathing!" I went back to be by him and felt the tears start to come. I knew it was over. The pain was gone. Thinking back on all of it - I really think that when I was trying to give him the medicine, he was pointing to the side of the room and venturing to say the word, "Home.". He wanted to go home. He wanted to be done. He knew it was time. So...while he was waiting for me to return home he was also waiting for the chance to return home as well. I will forever be grateful that he waited just long enough for me to be there when he left and tell him I loved him.