… Anthony got a date. His mother called me last night and told me. She didn’t give me the exact date; all she said was that it would be in October. Of this year. And yes, we were all aware that this would happen, but does knowing make it any easier?
And I know it sounds selfish, but I must be honest and say that I didn’t have enough time with him. He’s gotten under my skin, and I under his. He’s a part of me now. And his mother, oh, his mother…how she must be feeling right now. My heart aches for her, his father and his sister. I will be going to see him in a few weeks, but I’m in the middle of writing him a jPay and I don’t know what to say. I know he doesn’t want any of us to be sad, and I’m trying not to focus on it, but…it’s there. Lingering over us like a vengeful ghost.
I keep picturing him on that gurney…
But do you know what my first thought was? It was how badly I want us to be able to hug or touch in some kind of way. The fact that it’s a possiblility that he may die before ever having another chance to feel the warmth of someone else’s skin on his, an embrace, a kiss…nothing. The last hands he’ll feel on him will be those that belong to the ones who are charged with the task of taking his life.