Gospel 234 ~Don’t Drop Me Braxton~

I keep on falling. I’m struggling to get out of bed—the tears from my eyes. Or when my phone chimes for my boy. For a split-second, my eyes fall to the floor, or my legs, to his bed. He wouldn’t let me down, right until the end. Don’t Drop Me Braxton

Saturday, February 20, 2021

Gospel 234 ~Don’t Drop Me Braxton~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and still, I would never possess the type of strength that Braxton has. Always and forever.

I was impressed, proud, nearly scared to death when he would walk to his water bowl those last days. If I were to ask God for anything… well, first, it was to save my son’s life. He could have, I could have, and would be more of a bastard if I didn’t let him go. Secondly, it was The Prayer from Quest For Camelot. All I wanted was for Braxton not to hurt anymore. As the song goes, “To a place where (he’ll) be safe.” And that is my failure. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, I like to think that the Pearly Gates needed a Cerberus. Only like I said yesterday that you can’t go asking for vets’ names that showed mercy. I can’t follow B.

I would go without question. Every time there is an ache or pain. When I start to get sick, the first thought that crosses my mind is GOOD. Let me go, let me die, and go be with him. My tethers to this life are so few, and even those ties that bind… strong enough; never like my Braxton. You know death doesn’t bother me, Lady Lu. No, I take that back. The prospect of my death doesn’t irk me. A lot of deaths don’t. I’ve been seeing plenty of it. Lately, people feeling this pain. If mine ended, it would only be because I stopped it, like I ended Braxton’s suffering. Stops me… promise I made to a friend.

I raised Braxton so high, and never once did I consider I’d be begging him to help me up. Twenty days and I still pick up his bed but usually kneel to smell it. His favorite game was once staring at the door, wondering should I go outside or inside. Now it’s up and down from pillows, pill bottles, and my pendant. I remember how he would freak out when I took his collar off; his nails caught the ring. Now when wearing the pendant, it’s like my collar. More like I’m telling myself to be better for him. For his whole last year, I told myself I would be a better father, friend, hell if only somewhat less forgetful.

In my arms, heart, mind, Please Don’t Drop Me Braxton

I Am Afraid Without Braxton