His breathing slows. Anthony is not moving. Muscles don’t spasm.
I stand at the foot of his bed. I watch his chest rise and fall like the ocean waves.
I turn to greet another mourner. Lou’s Aunt has arrived. I give her a quick kiss. She smells of perfume. Flowery, like a rose. That scent lingers as she moves to hug Joey.
I take another look at my Anthony. I cannot keep my eyes off him. His last moments are here. The clock ticks the minutes away.
The hospice room fills with people. It is crowded with tear-filled voices. I hear nothing.
Anthony’s face changes color. A plum color replaces pink. The ocean waves become a soft flutter in his chest.
The end is near. I move to his side.
“Go, my sweet boy. It is ok.”