2005-08-28 - 8:48 p.m.

july 27,2003 9:30am

"the last day of water dragon"

I stood in the hall , men running back and forth around me while my eyes were frozen on the scene through the bedroom door. He lay there naked but for his underwear the paramedics doing all their life saving steps. They all seem to be moving in slow motion, the voices at a distance. One fireman with concerned face before me and I see him moving his mouth. I wonder what he is saying and I focus in on just him. "Ms do you know how serious this is?" I nod my head all the while not really understanding. I think of my daughter through the door behind me sleeping wondering how she is sleeping through all the noise, but grateful she is being watched over by the angels. My eyes pan the bedroom; covers all tossed on the floor, plastic sheets and medical things everywhere. The men are walking and standing on sheets and pillows. The bed is turned sideways a bit and several men squeezed between bed and wall their faces intent. One looks at me with serious eyes. After what seems long long minutes or hours I don't know, they bring in a gurney and lift him onto it. The fireman standing near me asked me if I want to change cloths. That�s when I realize I'm standing in my nightgown in a room of male strangers. It feels surreal and dreamlike. I think of Fawn and open the door to her room, inside she is sleeping and I wake her. She looks scared at all the people running back and forth in the hall and sees the them go by with her dad. I hold her close and ask her if she wants to come with me to the hospital or stay with our neighbor and her best friend. She wisely chooses to stay with her friend. Then as if brought by more angels there is sweet Bluebird by the door with arms open wide for my baby girl and she whisks her off to her place. I am left numbly trying to find some cloths to put on. I don't comb my hair or put make up on. I just find my purse and keys and I'm going to follow them to the hospital but the fireman gently takes the keys from me. He leads me to my car and puts me in the passenger seat. I think about how nice he is being to me and how I don't feel that or anything. Does knowing death is near always make one numb. Is that the way of death? I've only seen it from the distance of a grandparent or aunt, never so close up, so personal, so inside of me. When I arrive at the hospital the doctors guide me to a small room and I begin to feel tears forming because I know he is gone. I know death has taken my sweet man. I think of lying next to him that morning quiet and loving. Stroking his arm as he lay resting. He thought he had the flue. Never did I imagine that it was a heart attack coming. He was so vital, so alive, and so young.
The next few months pass in a blur of detachment. I follow my father around and sign what he says to sign. Did what was needed to be done but never feeling present. I do remember the roses I picked out for the grave, dozens and dozens of red roses. In memory of all the red roses he bought me over the years. They rest, still under all that dirt, red roses laying over him like a warm blanket.

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