As I drive towards the hospital, I quickly discover that this was a mistake. I should've waited for Paige's orb. I'm having a very hard time concentrating on driving--my mind is totally on Piper. So I stick to the back roads while avoiding the freeways (not easy in California!) and thank God that the hospital isn't very far away.
I wonder whether Piper is awake. I wonder if she's OK. I'm sure they gave her more morphine. What effect will it have on her now? But most of all, how much longer will she stay with us? Will I really know when she's ready to go, like I did with Dad? No one orbed me when he was dying--it was a lot like this, when I was just driving as quickly as I could, not even trying to concentrate, just trying to get there! I even sped down the freeway! I got there in record time! Oh, Mom or Grams or Prue or someone must've been watching out for me that I didn't crash or something, and I hope they're with me again now! Just don't sparkle in, you guys! You'll scare the crap out of me and I will crash! That's why no one orbed then--they called me on my cell while I was already out driving and didn't want to startle me by orbing in. Since no one knew how much time Daddy had, they didn't even want to take the time for me to stop somewhere, so they could orb me--they just wanted me to get there! That's what Leo was warning when he told me no one would be able to orb me. I know, I understand, but, man, I needed that shower, and, man, I needed to send that email!
I remember when I was taking this same route to try to say good-bye to Dad that part of me hoped he'd hang on, so I could say good-bye and half of me thought that was being awful selfish; that if he wanted to be with Mom that I should just hope that he'd let go and be with her. But there was a silent, still part of me, deep inside, that knew that he'd still be there, and he was. I got a chance to say good-bye and watch him cross. I'll get that chance with Piper, I just know it! Yes, I actually said good-bye to her last night and got to tell her how much I love her and how much I'll miss her and she got to tell me and the rest of us good-bye and thanks and how much she loves us and that she'll say hi to the rest of our family after she crosses, but I want to be there when she goes. I want to be close by. I want to see the look in her eyes when she sees that light she's always talked about all of those other times she died but came back. I want to see her face light up when she sees Mom & Dad & Grams & Prue waiting for her. I want to watch her cross that line. But, oh, Sis, if you want to just let go, I understand, Piper, I really do! It must be so hard to just hang in there. But I still hope you do.
Oh, thank you, God! There's the hospital! I made it! Now I pray that I can find a parking spot. Times like this I wish I had TK so I could just kinda bump a car over! But, no, that's personal gain, and each time we do that, it comes back and bite us. I don't need to be bitten now! And look! A spot! And fairly close to the door! Thank you, God! Piper, here I come!
I run through the hallway as quickly as I can and even hit a lucky streak by not having to wait for the elevator. Once I'm on the eighth floor, I run down the hall and into the Critical Cancer Ward and run across the room to Piper's room, then I stop and stare in her room.
