Pushing aside the tubes leading to bags of fluids, she climbed into the small, cool bed with him. She wrapped her arms around his pitifully thin body, whispered, \u201cDavey, son. I love you so.\u201d Julie pulled him closer, whispered, \u201cYou can go now. Don\u2019t worry about us. I\u2019ll be right here with you.\u201d Within minutes, she felt his last breath. Her mother\u2019s tears flowed unceasingly onto his chest.<\/p>\n
Brad arrived at the hospital shortly after, too late, aggrieved. Julie comforted him, made the arrangements for their only son\u2019s burial and memorial service.<\/p>\n
Now, nearly two years later, the image of David, as white as the hospital sheets he lay on, never left Julie\u2019s mind. The numbness, gone, was replaced with a searing, ever-present ache that made it painful to be touched. She slept in the guest bedroom, her loss filling her consciousness.<\/p>\n
Brad reached for Julie when his dreams were unbearable. He awakened with empty arms, bereft, his heart breaking nightly at the loss of his son and his wife.<\/p>\n
Driving home after one of their weekly visits with a grief counselor, Brad pulled onto the country lane leading to their house, too big now. Without warning, he slammed his foot on the brakes and screeched to a stop, jerking Julie into the present. Her seatbelt tight against her chest, she spotted a doe as it leapt to the side of the road.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank God you didn\u2019t hit her,\u201d she cried.<\/p>\n
Brad accelerated, eager to be home, but again stepped hard on the brakes right before they felt the impact, heard a thud. Julie\u2019s scream pierced the cool night air.<\/p>\n
She jerked open the door, ran to the front of the car, knelt, put her hands on the warm, furry neck. \u201cShe had a fawn, Brad. Look what you\u2019ve done,\u201d she sobbed. Julie pressed her head to the fawn\u2019s chest, trying to find a heartbeat. \u201cI think he\u2019s dead,\u201d she cried.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Jule . . . ,\u201d he began. \u201cWe hit him pretty hard. Come. Help me move him.\u201d They each grabbed a front leg and pulled, the fawn\u2019s neck flopping backwards, to the side of the road.<\/p>\n
Julie spotted the doe they had barely missed earlier standing in an oak grove nearby. \u201cLook, Brad. She\u2019s here. She knows.\u201d Tears streaming down her cheeks, she held out her hands to the doe, beckoning. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about us,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
She felt Brad\u2019s hand on her arm. \u201cJulie. Get control of yourself. I couldn\u2019t help it. Come on now.\u201d<\/p>\n
She recoiled from his touch, knelt again. She noticed the fawn\u2019s leg twitch. \u201cDid you see that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sure he\u2019s hurt bad, Jule. You stay here with him. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re going for your gun.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t want him to suffer. Do you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t want him to die. That\u2019s what I don\u2019t want.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. I\u2019m going now. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n
He pulled onto the lane, leaving Julie kneeling by the fawn, stroking his neck. Unwanted thoughts of loss filled her mind. Of David as a young boy, joyful, riding his new bike down this same lane. Of her mother, who died suddenly just months before her son. Her high school friend who, with no explanation, drove her car into the river. She saw herself, just nine years old, her arms tight around her collie\u2019s neck, her face close to his, a bullet hole in his side. The neighbor boy who hanged himself when he was fifteen.<\/p>\n
Julie focused again on the doe, venturing ever closer, watching, waiting. Brad\u2019s headlights illuminated the fawn. He pulled to the side of the road, parked the car, reached for his gun.<\/p>\n
Julie sat upright, whispered to the fawn. \u201cYou can go now.\u201d<\/p>\n
The fawn\u2019s front legs jerked a little. He tried to raise his head, laid it down again, and then, with what seemed to Julie a valiant effort, he stood, wobbly, weak, then stronger, then stronger yet, until his mother was beside him, nudging him, and when she knew it was time, she leapt into the woods, her fawn close behind.<\/p>\n
Brad dropped the gun, took Julie\u2019s hands, helped her stand. She didn\u2019t resist when he pulled her close, stroked her hair. Her heart poured out its grief onto his chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow I\u2019ve missed you,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
Julie put her arms around her husband, clasped her hands behind his back, held him tight.<\/p>\n
\u201cBittersweet as it is, Jule, we still have each other. Let\u2019s go home now.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pushing aside the tubes leading to bags of fluids, she climbed into the small, cool bed with him. She wrapped her arms around his pitifully thin body, whispered, \u201cDavey, son. I love you so.\u201d Julie pulled him closer, whispered, \u201cYou can go now. Don\u2019t worry about us. I\u2019ll be right here with you.\u201d Within minutes, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":14,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-323","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=323"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":486,"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323\/revisions\/486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nancileewoody.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=323"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}