All alone I heal this heart of sorrow
All alone I raise this child
Flesh and bone, he's just
Bursting towards tomorrow
And his laughter fills my world and wears your smile
I stand leaning against the doorway as he plays with toy choppers, fire trucks, cars and rovers strewn about the living room. My baby boy now three plunges the chopper into the fire truck and the loud noise from the crash makes me wince as the chopper and truck crash together. Three years ago I was handed a folded up flag along with Parker. I didn't want the flag, Parker didn't want the flag either we wanted Booth. I hear the chopper crash into another toy and I'm drawn back to reality, back to the little Booth boy in my living room. The little Booth boy that will never know his daddy unlike his brother Parker had.
I once wondered, hell I had pleaded and irrationally wished, wished that our little boy could have met his daddy. Though, it was never an option Booth had died and unfortunately he wasn't pretending this time. He was one of the soldiers that didn't make it home. Home to their loved ones, to simple things like Mac N Cheese, flavored drinks like Gatorade, theme parks, the metro, the diner, a bed, home-us. He was only training men, but the whole war was a front line-flight surgeon, sniper, flying a harrier, Army, AF, USMC, Navy, or Rangers. Whatever branch of the military whatever one's MOS (Occupation) was it was still a war zone, there is no 'only' in a war zone. I watch as the wee-woo noise of the fire truck is turned on and the lights come to life on the toy truck.
I had wondered once if it was better for him this way, never meeting Booth. For unlike Parker, my little boy has nothing to miss. He doesn't know what he has missed out on like Rebecca's little boy does. I didn't speak with anyone about my thoughts and wonders. For, everyone had already given me their own opinion. It was horrible, a tragedy beyond comprehension, and that my little boy had never met his dad was God just awful-they were so sorry. I agree with them, agree our son should have met you. But when I looked at Rebecca's little boy, wonder crept in. Did I wish my own son so much pain, pain of meeting you only to have you taken away from him? Everyone was so sorry, but they didn't do anything wrong. I had grown accustom to the "Oh, I'm so sorry." Our son and I would get when a question about fathers came up, I realize now people just don't know what else to say, it's not the answer one would expect-I never did.
It was harder losing you this time, for obvious reasons it was harder than one could ever imagine-no actor or actress could emit the feelings I felt on a screen. I had lost it, irrationally waiting for your return at the stupid coffee cart while I was pregnant. I waited on the bench for about an hour a day. Angela told me it was a sentimental place and it was ok to go there, Sweets surprisingly stayed quiet, just saying he was there if I needed anything, I only had smiled and thanked him. "Mommy!" I smile a serene smile and walk over to my little boy sitting down on the floor next to him. "Here mommy you get the chopper." He smiles and hands me the toy chopper, I set the chopper aside.
"How about we play with the red car and the fire truck instead?"
"Like Uncle Jacks car!"
"Like Uncle Jacks car, it's called a convertible." His eyes dance and he wears your smile as he stares at me awaiting an answer.
"Parker says he likes convertbulls." I smile, so did his daddy.
"He does?"
"Yep he said they are funner than regular cars."
"More fun and I guess they can be."
"Have you rided in a convertbull?"
I smile remembering out of all the times I had, which was my favorite. "Yes with your daddy." The fire trucks lights come on and I chased my son's car around on the floor with it. His laughter fills my ears and makes me smile I receive a smile in return, I set the truck down and pull him toward me into my lap tickling him, giggles escaping both of us. I would never be "over it." Time may help ease some pain but it isn't a healer-I will never forget. I release our son from our tickle fight, but he only looks up at me innocently staying put in my lap. "My Daddy likes convertbulls too?"
"Yeah he did baby."
"Lots like Uncle Jack?"
I smile Hodgins had turned into his father figure. I still had to find some meaning in the center of the pain I felt inside before ever thinking of anyone else besides Booth. It was too early for me to move on, I wasn't ready for it and I didn't want too. "Yes and Parker too."
"That's cause he's both our daddies, mommy." our son says as if I should have known this.
"He is." I stop the truck for a moment and look at our son. "You know your daddy loves you very much right?" your big brown eyes stare up at me haunting me through our sons own brown orbs. I'm speaking to you Booth just like you wanted, do you hear me?
"Yeah mommy you told me already, now can we play trucks?" I smile a half hearted smile at him, he was too young to understand. I knew this, so why did I push. "Wait mommy, you can have the convertbull now cause you and daddy like it. I get the fire truck."
"Thank you." I take the car and hear sirens from the fire truck turn on accompanied by a shriek of laughter. I toss the car aside and grab what Booth had given me the night before I left for Maluku, our son.
"Child of The Unknown Daddy" is a play on words- "Tomb of The Unknown Soldier" reviews are appreciated.