We were walking down a stair case, Paul, Jacob and I, some ways up from the ground. Faces were all around us, recognizable, and yet, somehow lost in shadow. The stair rail running beside us was tall with broad blue slats placed too far apart. Far enough apart for a young child to slip through. Someone had thought of this though, and there was some wire mesh going about half way up, leaving a gap between the mesh and the top rail.
I don’t remember how it happened, I just remember a scream ripping from my chest as I saw Jacob plummet over the side. “Call 911,” I yelled at a nameless face as Paul and I hurtled ourselves down the long staircase, afraid of what we would find at the bottom. We couldn’t run fast enough, it seemed as though our legs churned in slow motion as my heart threatened to beat its way up my throat and out of my body. I felt sick with fear; absolute nameless terror; so much so that I could hardly breathe. We rounded the last corner and there he was. Laying crumpled on the floor. With a sob I rushed forward, stopping short of his still form, not daring to touch him for fear of doing him more injury. “Where is the ambulence?” I cried. Some how I knew that miraculously he would be fine. He always came out fighting, he had a purpose here that God wanted him to do, he wouldn’t be taken from us yet.
Sirens filled my head and I was surrounded by paramedics rushing here and there and we were transported to the hospital. He was alive. All were amazed. He had a terrible concussion, but he was alive. “No one should have survived that fall,” they told me shaking their heads in awe. I was told that during all the tests they had performed they had found some additional minor problems with his heart, nothing too serious they told me…
With a start I sat bolt upright in bed, trying to figure out where I was and what was happening. Paul was sleeping soundly beside me, low snores eminating from his half open mouth. I could hear Jacob breathing softly in his room over the monitor. Choking back terrified tears I snuggled close to my husband clasping his hand. I didn’t want to wake him. Not now, that would almost make it too real. Even as I recounted the terrible nightmare in the bright lights of the bathroom, a shadow was cast over our usual cheery moods. Yes, it was just a dream, but we’ll be keeping an extra close eye on him over the next few days, just in case.
(This happened just last night… I am still shaken.)