After hanging up the phone, I told my husband and my mother-in-law what I knew. Essentially, that hospital staff felt there was nothing else to be done, that it was decided to cease medical intervention. My husband said nothing. He watched sadly as our three year old son played on the floor with some action figures, super heroes of some kind that had belonged to my husband as a child, toys my mother-in-law had dug out of a closet the night before.
My father-in-law was out working in the yard. We could see him with the rake, then the blower, going back and forth in front of the window.
What happened? my mother-in-law said.
She was drying wine glasses that she had just washed from dinner the night before. My father-in-law had grilled steaks, my mother-in-law baked sweet potatoes and roasted asparagus. For dessert, we ate tiramisu from tiny little dishes.
What happened? she said.
I don’t know, I told her. It didn’t seem right to ask j=st then.
Boom! Whoosh! my son shouted, playing. Pa-kosh!
My G*d, my mother-in-law said, put down the glass she was drying. Good Lord… how could something like that have happened?
I’ve told you everything I know. They’ll keep us informed about arrangements.
I walked over to the big table where we had dinner the night before, breakfast just that morning.
Pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs.
I sat down.
I just can’t imagine, she said, picked up the glass, then put it down again. I – what happened?
For a moment, I was having trouble breathing. I looked over at my husband. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
I don’t know, I said, trying not to sound angry. I’ve told you all I know.
But, I just can’t – what could have happened? she said again.
She wasn’t talking to anyone in particular. It was shock speaking, horror.
I knew this. Still, I wanted to scream.