I Love You to the Moon and Back
1/2
At sixteen, there was no way I was prepared to take care of a baby, and quite honestly, neither was Jack, but that didn’t stop us from trying. That summer, Jack moved into my house with me, and Owen James Williams became Owen James Williams Barakat at age six months. Jack and I got married as soon as his parents signed he could, and since I was emancipated because of Mom and Dad’s deaths, I was good to go. We were happy – Me, Jack, and our little boy. When Owen was a year old, Jack’s band got signed and things got complicated, but we worked our way through. Owen was two years, eight months, and three days old when I took note of how the bruise on his back from where he’d run into the wall at Joyce and Bassam’s house a month earlier was still there, and hadn’t even faded a little bit. Jack was on tour, so I took Owen to his normal doctor, who told me to take him to get blood work. Two days later, Jack had just come through the door and picked up our toddler when the doctor called and told me the news. Apparently I went pale and Jack told Owen to go play in his room while he talked to me. Jack literally had to hold me up. When he asked me what was wrong, all I said was “It’s not fair, Jack. I lost my parents, and now they’re telling me that he has leukemia and that I might lose him too?” He rubbed my back to try and calm me down.
“Listen to me, Riley , he’s going to be okay. He’s my son, I have raised him, I don’t care what blood tests say, he’s mine. And god dammit, I can’t lose my son.” He said, his voice cracking.
Owen went through chemo but he didn’t respond to it. When he was three and a half, we had to make a decision – keep fighting for our sons life or accept the inevitable and take him home. We chose the first one. He turned four on October 9. He was just as happy as he was before he got sick on that day. The next morning, I got a call saying he’d taken a turn for the worse. I spent the next 48 hours with him, holding him while family members came in and told him how much they loved him, because we all secretly knew he wasn’t going to make it much longer. Jack came in that night and smiled at him, as he hadn’t been there for a couple days because of the band. I could see his heart break when he saw those little blue eyes look at him. He sat down in the chair and he started singing quietly. In those few minutes, we both had a silent acceptance of what was happening. Jack walked over to the bed and lifted Owen up and laid him on his chest. I took Jack’s hand. I think he knew that Owen wasn’t going to give up until we told him it was okay to, and even though it killed us, we knew what we had to do. We couldn’t stand to see our precious little boy hurt anymore. We both kissed his head softly.
“Owen. It’s okay baby. You can go. You don’t have to hurt anymore sweetheart.” I said. His big blue eyes looked up at me from where he was sucking on his thumb on Jack’s chest.
“Mommy, I love you.” He said. I smiled.
“I love you too, Owen.” I said. “And so does Daddy.” Jack squeezed my hand and Owen closed his eyes. What I would have given to see those eyes one more time, but they didn’t open again. Me and Jack sat there listening to the beeps on the heart monitor until it was just one long one, so we knew he was gone. Jack kissed Owen’s head one last time before we both moved to get off the bed, we’d just stood up when the doctor rushed in.
“I’m so sorry.” She breathed. “We really tried, Mr. and Mrs. Barakat” I nodded
“I know. Me and Jack both knew he was just getting worse, but he wasn’t going to give up until Jack and I told him it was okay.” I said. She hugged us both.
3 days later, my brother was buried next to my mom and dad. Jack and I visit him on a weekly basis and theres not a day that we don’t think about what he’d be like if he’d lived as he’d be almost eight now. We’re expecting for the first time now. And we’re going to make sure to tell our daughter how much her brother would have loved her.
“Listen to me, Riley , he’s going to be okay. He’s my son, I have raised him, I don’t care what blood tests say, he’s mine. And god dammit, I can’t lose my son.” He said, his voice cracking.
Owen went through chemo but he didn’t respond to it. When he was three and a half, we had to make a decision – keep fighting for our sons life or accept the inevitable and take him home. We chose the first one. He turned four on October 9. He was just as happy as he was before he got sick on that day. The next morning, I got a call saying he’d taken a turn for the worse. I spent the next 48 hours with him, holding him while family members came in and told him how much they loved him, because we all secretly knew he wasn’t going to make it much longer. Jack came in that night and smiled at him, as he hadn’t been there for a couple days because of the band. I could see his heart break when he saw those little blue eyes look at him. He sat down in the chair and he started singing quietly. In those few minutes, we both had a silent acceptance of what was happening. Jack walked over to the bed and lifted Owen up and laid him on his chest. I took Jack’s hand. I think he knew that Owen wasn’t going to give up until we told him it was okay to, and even though it killed us, we knew what we had to do. We couldn’t stand to see our precious little boy hurt anymore. We both kissed his head softly.
“Owen. It’s okay baby. You can go. You don’t have to hurt anymore sweetheart.” I said. His big blue eyes looked up at me from where he was sucking on his thumb on Jack’s chest.
“Mommy, I love you.” He said. I smiled.
“I love you too, Owen.” I said. “And so does Daddy.” Jack squeezed my hand and Owen closed his eyes. What I would have given to see those eyes one more time, but they didn’t open again. Me and Jack sat there listening to the beeps on the heart monitor until it was just one long one, so we knew he was gone. Jack kissed Owen’s head one last time before we both moved to get off the bed, we’d just stood up when the doctor rushed in.
“I’m so sorry.” She breathed. “We really tried, Mr. and Mrs. Barakat” I nodded
“I know. Me and Jack both knew he was just getting worse, but he wasn’t going to give up until Jack and I told him it was okay.” I said. She hugged us both.
3 days later, my brother was buried next to my mom and dad. Jack and I visit him on a weekly basis and theres not a day that we don’t think about what he’d be like if he’d lived as he’d be almost eight now. We’re expecting for the first time now. And we’re going to make sure to tell our daughter how much her brother would have loved her.
♠ ♠ ♠
part two will be out later.