When Heaven Goes Silent
The emergency room was deathly still except for my husband?s anguished weeping.
Tearless, I held our little son Timmy’s chilling body to my breast, trying to warm him, unwilling to let him grow cold. Bruised from futile resuscitation efforts, he was naked except for a rough blanket wrapped around him and secured with a diaper pin.
The mortician peeked in. He was waiting. I wanted to run into the night with Timmy’s body and hide him somewhere where I could keep him safe.
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