I have work in 40 minutes. Part of me is ready, grateful to be doing something to take my mind off of things. The other part of me wants to hightail it back home and hide in my bedroom, under the covers. Since I’m already in the parking lot, I know that I will be going in. But for some reason there’s this huge knot in my stomach. My chest is heavy. I think it’s anxiety. But I’m not sure exactly about what.
 Last night my nephew completely wigged out. He was upset because he wanted one of those fidget spinners. I hated seeing him that way, so I whispered into his ear and asked if he wanted me to go buy him one. He perked up for one solitary second and told me yes. So downstairs I went, to the little corner store to buy him one. I saw that  Joe (the owner of said corner store) sold them a few days ago. I purchased 2 light up ones. All the rave right now with the youngsters. When I came back upstairs I handed him them and told him he could pick one. He immediately shut down, almost started crying, and said he didn’t want it. And to return them. I’m not gonna lie, a 6 year old legitimately hurt my feelings. I was confused at what I had done. Did I get him colors that he already had? Did he not want a light up one? 

Instead, he utterly lost his shit. Started screaming at my sister and I. Crying. Throwing shit. Breaking glass in my living room. He wouldn’t let us anywhere near him. He started hyperventilating. I tell you, I’ve never felt so completely and utterly useless. I had no idea what to do and neither did my sister. We sat there, using light tones and telling him he’s not in trouble. Attempting to coax him into sitting on the couch with us to watch television. Eventually my sister grabbed him and just held him tight. Holding and rocking him and telling him that everything is going to be okay. Even though at the moment we had no idea what wasn’t okay. 

He then told us that he just wanted to be with his Papi. That he hated us for not letting him see his own father. That he would never forgive us and that he wanted to die. 

A 6 year old, wishing for death. It’s like he’s a little mini me. I was the exact same way at that exact same age. I looked to my sister to see her eyes swelling up and turning red around the rims. Of course, my nephew has no idea that it’s not us forcing him and his father apart. It’s the United States government and the Feds apart of illegal immigration removal. But he doesn’t want to hear how it’s not our fault. He just wants to see his father. He doesn’t understand. 

I wish I could take away all of his pain. All of my sisters pain. I would gladly and unabashedly walk around with their pain and burden on my shoulders. I wouldn’t think twice about it, if it meant that they would be okay. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way. 

My nephew ended up in children’s hospital. They had to sedate him, which hurts my heart. Hurts my soul. I haven’t wished harder than I did last night to let another human being be okay. 

If there is a God, please, have mercy on my nephews soul.




One thought on “Mercy. 

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