Part 3

A short time later two doctors came in. They said they had done all they could, but they were unable to save Raymond. He died. No miracle here. I think I may have cried. I've lost most of that time. I remember wanting to donate his organs. But they said they could not use them. I remember someone bringing Amanda and a niece and nephew into the room. Amanda asked me if Raymond had died, and I said, "Yes honey, he did. I'm sorry." We cried. I called Ray again. I told him that our son was gone. Everyone started screaming on the other end of the phone, and it made me crazy so I hung up on them. Family members came in and out of the tiny office. Everyone was crying. I asked if I could see him. They told me to wait until they got things ready. The office was not as full of people then, but I don't remember who was there. I waited awhile, and then they said I could go see him.

I went into the trauma room with my mother and my priest. Everything had been cleaned up. He looked as if he was only sleeping, even though he had scrapes an his face, and his one eye was still slightly open. I went over to where he was. I sat next to him and looked at his sweet, peaceful face. Just then my brother Brian came running into the room. He looked at me and asked, "Is he gonna be ok?" I replied in a matter of fact tone, "No, he is gone." He said, "Oh my God, no!" and he cried. I will never forget the look on his face.

I asked the nurse if I could hold Raymond. She gave a look towards my priest and said she wasn't sure because of my clothing. But then she laid a sheet on my lap and lifted him up and placed him in my arms. I hugged him close to me and I don't know what I said to him. I know my words were soft and gentle as a mother speaks to a child she is rocking to sleep. I think I told him I was sorry. I think I told him I love him. He felt cold and clammy and there was a smell of blood. I rocked him in my arms. It felt like only minutes, although I was told later that we were in there for a long while. I wish I had stayed with him longer, but in my shock I didn't realize that I would never have another chance to hold him again. It didn't seem real.

The next thing I remember was walking out of the hospital and my priest drove me to my mother's house. He told me later that he pointed to a sunset and said it was beautiful and I said, "Yes, it is." But I don't remember that.

I arrived at my mother's house. The phone kept ringing and many people were there, telling me they were sorry and crying. I wasn't crying at all. One of my sisters-in-law came into the house, and she said to me, "He's gone Kathy he's gone!" and she was crying . She grabbed me and shook me a little, as if to get it through my head that it was real. I said, "I know."I was well aware that he was dead. I just couldn't feel anything. I was once again watching it all as an impartial observer. I kept saying "Hmmm" and sighing.

Amanda wanted her "Babby," a stuffed rabbit that she slept with at night. My brother Jack and his wife said they would get it, but I insisted on going. I was her mother and I would get it. So we went those few blocks and there were still police cars everywhere and news vans too, so we had to walk down the hill. My brother told the reporters to leave me alone and they did.

People stared as we walked the block to my home. I walked past one of his tennis shoes halfway down the hill. They were brand new. The kind that light up when you walk. I pointed out where Raymond had landed without emotion. Then I said,"Oh, there is his other shoe," when we got to the bottom of the hill. I went and got the rabbit and we walked past the staring people again.

They took Amanda to my brother's house to spend the night. All of my mothers twelve grandchildren were there. Except one. I returned to my mother's and everyone was talking and looking at me, or so it seemed. I didn't hear what they were saying. I suddenly asked for a cigarette. I hadn't had one in four months. I couldn't taste it. I remember seeing Raymond's picture on the evening news, and I wondered how they got that picture of him. Who gave it to them? I still don't know. Later, someone got me a pack of cigarettes and I went out on the front porch of my mother's house. There was a cool breeze. I sat on the step and chain smoked late into the night. Sighing and saying "Hmmm". They gave me some pills and I slept on my mothers sofabed. The next morning I woke up screaming and I threw up.

There is more to write, but this is all I have now.