It was a Thursday morning 5/2/13,
I slept at the hospital alongside my siblings the night before.
We knew it would be the last time we would be four.
We sat around and waited for doctors to tell us it was time...
It felt like the clock was frozen in time.
There was not much talking going on.
We waited for family to come say goodbye,
Yet it still did not seem real.
They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days.
I wanted to be with him.
I could not let him be alone.
Everyone said there goodbyes,
and went to the waiting room.
I stayed.
I took his hand.
I told him I loved him.
I told him I would never give up finding out what happened.
I kissed his forehead,
I told him he was a hero.
I put my fingers on his wrist,
I felt his pulse.
They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days.
I held his hand...
Tight, my knuckles were white.
I felt his last heartbeat....
and yet a part of it still did not seem real.
I fell apart.
For the first time in eight days, I fell apart.
They said it could be hours,
They said it could be days,
It was not...
It was eleven minutes.
As I walked out of his room,
I wiped my tears.
I went to tell them-
He was gone.
We packed up,
It was time to leave.
We had made it our place,
For eight days, it was where we sat.
For eight days, it was our place of hope.
I went along as they moved him out.
An American flag draped over him.
Within a few hours,
I walked in to the firehouse.
All was draped in black....
There were lot of tears, news cameras...
Obituaries to be written-
Yet, A part of it did not seem real.
Two years later, A part of it still doesn't.
RIP my hero!
FF Gene Kirchner
LODD 5/2/2013
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