“You know, I got the news at 5:25 a.m. that you were shot in the leg. And the next sentence included the word ‘dead.’ How can those two words go together? Who gets shot in the leg and dies???”
He hangs his head, not wanting to look into the confusion and sadness that fill my eyes. “I know, I just didn’t think. I always thought of my grandfathers if I thought about my dying age at all. Remember how I used to say:
I got a long life ahead of me, don’t I?
“I do remember that. And do you remember what I would say?”
If you make the right choices, yes, you’ve got old age in your blood.
“Yea. I’m sorry, Mama. I didn’t want you to ever know about the risks I was taking. I thought I had all kinds of time to get it right.”
A tear rolls down my cheek.
He reaches out to comfort me. Instead of his arms, I feel the chill of the crisp morning. I feel a breeze and know it is his breath.