Meant to Be - Part 4

 Here's part 4! :) I do have more written than this but I'm going to post it later 'cause there are a few things I want to go over and possible re-write. Tell me what you think.

“Mom.” I whisper. “What happened?” I know what happened, but I want to know how I got here, how I was saved, what she knows. Sudden fear grips me, did they somehow find out my secret? I look into my mom's eyes, trying to search them for some clue, some hint that she knows. Her eyes are glassy from tears, I can almost see my reflection, her face is wet, and her eyelids red and puffy. She looks a mess!

    My mom, so composed, always perfectly groomed, never a hair out of place, never going out without her makeup being perfect, like this? Even when Dad died and Danny, mom was always composed, always the strong one  to lean on. I rarely see mom cry and now thinking that I’m the cause of those tears makes my heart ache. Why was I so foolish? Why don’t I think before I do things? Why am I so selfish? Why can’t I be more like mom? Tears come involuntarily.

    “I thought you were in your room doing homework, but around 9:00, I got a call that you were in the hospital. Jimmy came with his daughter to plow our drive and found you and brought you into the hospital. He said he didn’t know if he should bring you home or to the hospital at first but he had dealt with hypothermia once or twice while ice fishing with buddies and knew that since the hospital was closer and you were pretty far gone he better bring you in and notify me later. If he would’ve brought you home, you might not have survived.” Mom’s voice is broken,

    “How long have I been here?”

    “Three days. We almost lost you, but thanks to God and all the prayers from the church, you’re  okay.”

    “The baby?” I don’t know if mom knows about it yet, but I have to know if my baby is okay!

    “The baby’s okay.” mom says softly. A thrill goes through me, relief floods me. If I would have lost the baby, I would’ve been forever guilty of taking a life. I see that mom’s crying again and I reach up and wipe a tear from her face.

    “I’m sorry mom!” I whisper softly. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. Actually I do, I was thinking it would be an easy escape but by the time I realized I couldn’t give up yet, it was too late! Mom!” I break off choked by sobs.

    “It’s okay honey, don’t think about it, just think about recovering. The sooner you recover the sooner we can go home. Maybe we can go home for Christmas.” She smiles through her tears and I think she might be angel, only an angel could forgive me for what I did to her, risking her more pain and my baby’s life.

    Is she angry with me about the baby, I wonder, how is she feeling? I wish she’d tell me what she’s thinking! Getting yelled at would be better than this silent forgiveness! Don’t say it’s okay! It’s not okay! I scream inside and yet I love my mom for how she so willingly offers grace to me. She’s so Christlike! Maybe what she’s got is real after all, maybe what I’ve been fighting all along is what I really need.  I push the thoughts from my mind, if I ignore them, they’ll go away. I’m not ready to accept this.

    “How soon can I go home?” I ask. Mom shrugs,

    “I don’t know yet honey, hopefully soon.” she smiles softly at me. I reach for her hand and squeeze it slightly, pain floods up my arm momentarily but then it’s gone and I’m okay.

    “God,” my heart prays, “Thank you for saving me and giving me a second chance!”  Something touches my heart, and a silent voice whispers, ‘I’ve got a plan for your life, you were meant to be, will you give me the pieces?’ my heart longs to respond, longs to give in but something is still holding me back, I’m not ready. Please God! Hold on a little longer, I’m not ready yet, please don’t give up on me!