They entered the dimly lit CICU hospital room and lingered in the shadows by the doorway.
I could see them clearly, standing together. I knew they were there and yet it was as if I was seeing their shadows in a bright light at the end of a long corridor. As if they were not close at all - and not real, but a dream.
My heart raced and then slowed. Tears welled in my eyes at the sight of my sweet family.
My son stood beside his father and his sisters and tried to put on a brave face. His little sister walked bravely to the side of my bed, looked me in the eyes and cried, "When are you coming home, Mama?" Tears rolled down the cheeks of my tiny girl as she buried her face in my lap. My son stayed back.
He has never been a mama's boy. It has not been until the past year or so that the boy has been drawn to his mother. They have grown close. It has been such a pleasure to see him grow and become a young man, and at the same time ... fall in love with his mother, like a small child.
I would look over and there he'd be - staring at me. Not saying much, but watching my every move and listening to the chatter of his sisters and soft whispers of his sick mother. He eventually moved close to the side of my bed - close enough for me to place my hand on his back and urge him closer. He leaned, cautiously, on the edge of my bed, looking over his shoulder into my eyes and offering sporadic heart warming smiles. It was obvious that he was afraid.
I could not sit up. I could barely breath or string together a coherent sentence. But ... I was able to see the look in my son's eyes. The look in my daughter's eyes. The look in my husband's eyes. I saw the fear. I saw the connection - to me. I saw ... the longing and the love.
When the visit was over and the family began to pull away from the mother and move into the hallway, one by one ... the son lingered behind. He snuck back to his mother's side. He smiled sweetly. He said, "Bye, Mom," and then he walked away.
The mother was sure the son had gone and then ... he returned to her side once again, like a flash of light from heaven. He took her arm gently and hugged it to his chest. He did not look up when he whispered, "I love you Mom. I miss you Mom," and then he turned again and he was gone.
It scared the mother to be left alone. To feel so sick. To feel the sadness and see the fear in the eyes of her children. But ... it was also a brilliant moment in the mother's life. The time when her loved ones gathered around her ...
to protect her ...
to support her ...
to raise her up.
She felt loved.
She was loved.
It was dark, but ...
It was going to be okay.