I couldn't help but think of Julia in that moment. The way Craig looked so small and pale under all those wires and monitors. Julia looked the same way in the days leading up to her death. The sight and smell of the ICU brought flashbacks to her final weeks, days, hours... her last moments for real that it almost sent me running back to the waiting room...back home...anywhere I could break down but I didn't. My wife needed me to be strong for her son. I needed to be there for him. Guilt swept over me. I tried to put the pieces together. How could this have happened? I hadn't seen much of the kid in the past few years but I should have paid more attention; seen the signs. I missed them. I missed my chance to protect him after Julia was gone, didn't even know he needed protecting. I knew his father wasn't the kindest man. I heard the stories Julia had told me, but never did they mention physical abuse, especially not towards Craig. I know the trouble he was in now. The rough life he's lived and I'm going to be there for Craig now. I won't let him get hurt again.
I slowly sat in the chair next to his bedside. The small room with a large glass door was crammed with medical equipment. The doctor had been right. IV poles and monitors filled the room. Beeps and whirls filled the silence. I looked at Craig bruised and still. His eyes were closed, a large tube coming from his mouth strapped to either cheek. Bandages and stitches covering his face. Monitors connected him to a large screen in the corner of the room and another at the nurse's station; monitoring his breath, his heartbeat, whatever life that is left in his body. His hair was wild and sticking up at every angle. I quickly pushed a curl away from his face, partly afraid to touch him but wanting this kid to feel some form of comfort. I wanted him to know someone was there for him. Someone would be there to watch out for him. Protect him. He had a different life now.
