Just Us
Loved
I stayed by Anne throughout her pregnancy with our beautiful baby boy. She was so strong through the critisism and unfamiliar attention that came with being the mother of Michael Jackson's child. I wouldn't let the pressure and stress eat her out like it did for me and my family in the begining.
After nine months Anne was rushed to the hopsital and gave birth to our son, Darrel. She named him after her father and I didn't object. After everything that we had been through, I was somewhat glad she named him after her father.
I walked into the room after Anne gave birth expecting her to be smiling and laughing with our son in her arms; but she wasn't smiling. Her eyes were closed and not an expression dared to show upon her tired face. I begn to rush to her side, but a doctor restrained me. I was sent back to the waiting room, but I was not calm. I figited with my hands and sweated with uneasiness.
After about an hour a doctor came out and told me I could see her. I walked into he room once again and knew what was to happen. I sat down next to her and wiped the sweat from her face. She was awake, but just barely. She attempted to smiled, yet she only succeeded in making her true exhaustion show.
"He's beautiful." She whispered. I smiled and nodded. A single tear slipped for her eye and I quickly removed it from her cheek. As my hand began to pull away, she grasped it with her cold, clammy hands and placed it on her matching cold, clammy skin. I tried to be strong for her and show her that she would be strong again, but I was unable to hold back my tears. Now it was her turn to comfort me and I let her.
Eight years later on July 19th 2000, It was Darrel's eighth birthday without his mother. He sat in the livingroom of a home we rented in Africa and opening his birthday present from me. We were staying there temporarily and he had always been facinated with the landscape of Brazil. His face lit up when he opened the box, uncovering a new book collection. Darrel had inherited his passion for reading from his mother; along with his dark questioning eyes.
"Oh daddy! I love it." He pounced on me and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back and longed for his mother to see him. He pulled back and his face became somber. He laid all of the books except one next to him, sat down, and flipped throught the one he held.
"Daddy, I love the books. And I'm really happy you brought me to Brazil. I just wish mommy could have been here to see this." He said. Tears filled my eyes as I wrapped my arm around him and sighed.
"I do too son, I do too." In that moment I missed Anne more than ever and imagined that time when it was...
Just Us
After nine months Anne was rushed to the hopsital and gave birth to our son, Darrel. She named him after her father and I didn't object. After everything that we had been through, I was somewhat glad she named him after her father.
I walked into the room after Anne gave birth expecting her to be smiling and laughing with our son in her arms; but she wasn't smiling. Her eyes were closed and not an expression dared to show upon her tired face. I begn to rush to her side, but a doctor restrained me. I was sent back to the waiting room, but I was not calm. I figited with my hands and sweated with uneasiness.
After about an hour a doctor came out and told me I could see her. I walked into he room once again and knew what was to happen. I sat down next to her and wiped the sweat from her face. She was awake, but just barely. She attempted to smiled, yet she only succeeded in making her true exhaustion show.
"He's beautiful." She whispered. I smiled and nodded. A single tear slipped for her eye and I quickly removed it from her cheek. As my hand began to pull away, she grasped it with her cold, clammy hands and placed it on her matching cold, clammy skin. I tried to be strong for her and show her that she would be strong again, but I was unable to hold back my tears. Now it was her turn to comfort me and I let her.
Eight years later on July 19th 2000, It was Darrel's eighth birthday without his mother. He sat in the livingroom of a home we rented in Africa and opening his birthday present from me. We were staying there temporarily and he had always been facinated with the landscape of Brazil. His face lit up when he opened the box, uncovering a new book collection. Darrel had inherited his passion for reading from his mother; along with his dark questioning eyes.
"Oh daddy! I love it." He pounced on me and hugged me tightly. I hugged him back and longed for his mother to see him. He pulled back and his face became somber. He laid all of the books except one next to him, sat down, and flipped throught the one he held.
"Daddy, I love the books. And I'm really happy you brought me to Brazil. I just wish mommy could have been here to see this." He said. Tears filled my eyes as I wrapped my arm around him and sighed.
"I do too son, I do too." In that moment I missed Anne more than ever and imagined that time when it was...
Just Us