The day it all changed

I will never forget us coming in for the day and I knew you didn't recognize me.  You stared in a distant gaze.  Your movements were sporadic at best.  Your eyes longed for you dad and me but we couldn't figure out how to help you.  You just kept starting.  I think you were starting to say goodbye.  God knew we would need that comfort.   We needed just a little more time.  In hindsight, this is the day that we lost touch.   I hope and pray that you went to Heaven that day awaiting a land of milk and honey-or hot cheetos, sour candies, and your best buddy Meg.   This is the day, I feel that you began your journey to Heaven and God was giving us sweet time to say goodbye.  You woke up and said Mama and a few other words before a fever of 105 came.  You were so restless that you ripped out your picc line. We had to strap our hands down because you were so feisty.   I am so thankful that you had your favorite nurses to care for you during this time.  We stayed in the sleep room and Meg would update me.  I would come check on you, on the cooling blanket.  You seemed so cold and yet so hot.  It wasn't fair.  You had fought and fought.  You were the Little Prince.  Somehow, I heard a small voice say this was the start of the end but I couldn't believe it.  That was unacceptable.