Checking in with Cy

One day after school Cy asked me out of the blue, "Did you pray about letting Elle die?"

I looked over at him, "Yes, we prayed..."

"But did you really pray?"

"Yes," I assured him, "we prayed hard."

"So, you prayed for sure?"

I explained Elle's condition and how both her brain and body had actively died and her body was only kept "alive" by machines.



Cy sat for a minute and then told me, "I remember everything about that day." The day of the accident.

He described waking up on that Saturday morning in February, watching cartoons, getting his basketball jersey on, going to his game, and how Elle offered him a treat she picked out for him while at Walmart with Grandma. He remembered telling her, "Thanks, Elle! I'll have it later, k?" 




He remembered going to his friend Luke's house after the game. At this point in his story, he ducked his head into his collar and started to sob. 

He kept on with his day. He explained how Luke had a game, so he came home and was playing video games in our front room when our neighbor rushed in telling us to call 911. 

He remembered running up the street and seeing Elle on the driveway. 

"Dad was holding her. She was looking up into the sky. People would tell her to look at them, and she would, but then she would look at the sky. She had green stuff coming out of her mouth." He was crying. 

I had never seen Elle on the driveway. I had tried to approach her a couple of times as she was surrounded by people, but something told me I should stay away. I had avoided asking anyone about her condition on the driveway all this time. But now, and still afraid of the answer, I asked Cy, "Did she look like she was in pain?" 

Yes. 

We were both crying then. "She looked like she was trying to cry but couldn't." 

In over two-and-a-half years, Cy and I had yet to have a conversation like this. I had tried before but kept failing. I guess he wasn't ready. That, and maybe now he feels safe confiding in me. He knows that even though "the worst" has happened, I'm okay.

And he knows he's okay, too.