The Death of My Imaginary Child

There’s a question in my head. What do I do now after he’s gone? Do I start calling the people expecting to see him when I leave? Do I go shopping for a coffin and the flowers he never saw? He always liked the blue ones. Whenever he would walk, he'd always stop us and say, “Look, Dad, my favorite color.” I was going to get him a blue lightsaber for his birthday this year. It's sitting in my Amazon cart, and the blue wrapping paper with a little dinosaur on it. He liked the tall one.

I think we went to the movies once before. He cried a lot because he is afraid of the dark. “Mommy is going to be right here with you until I come back. Do you think you can be brave for me?” I wiped off his tears and kissed him on the nose. He liked being kissed on the nose. I think he was ticklish there–he was ticklish everywhere. I came back after finding his favorite dirty little blanket and a small stuffed bunny from the car. He was always too afraid to wash both of them. “No, don't wash only one of them. Then they don’t have each other,” he would say. “But, what if you washed both of them?” “Then, I won’t have them.” Then once I walked back in, I knew that I should have brought them to a different movie. As I climbed the stairs, he was snuggled up with Mommy, and she was snoring loud enough that people started moving. I kept that picture of her with you on her lap and drool that you both had in my wallet. In hindsight, she was drooling on you.

I think the thing I’ll miss the most is how you never got to see your Christmas gift this year. When you were 5, you were always the first one to wake us up. You ran down with your little pajamas and slipped on the ground like a baby. You always got back up because you were my baby. I bought you a toy chest this year and a lightsaber. The toy chest was so big that you could even fit in there with all of your lightsabers. I didn’t think we’d use that for the funeral.

I think it’s the little suit. Something about the little suit that makes you seem so ready and so prepared for whatever life has in store for you. I never have to buy another suit for you again, I can’t help you dress up for your first school dance, or when you go to your first job interview. I’ll never get to wipe the tears from your mother’s ugly crying face as she sees you on your wedding day. As you lay down in the little coffin that we bought, I wondered if your feet got cold. We put you in the socks we gave you last Christmas. “Daddy, who's that? His name is Buzz Lightyear. Who’s that? Well, his name is Woody. I don't like him. I think Buzz Lightyear is better. Why don’t you like Woody? He doesn’t know how to fly. I want to fly like Buzz Lightyear.” I promise, son, now you get to fly just like Buzz. Just like him.

I never got to say how proud I was of him. I never got to say how much I loved him. In a perfect world, we would have come from the hospital together. I would have held his hand forever if I could have so that he wouldn’t slip away from me again. He’d wave goodbye to all the doctors and nurses passing by, holding his little bunny with a grin as he left. We would have gone inside the elevator, and I would have had a heart attack when he used his body to stop the elevator from closing as an elderly lady walked in. He’d tug on my shirt, asking me, “Do you think we can stop by McDonald's on the way home? Please?” “ Sure, buddy, let's get two happy meals. One for me and one for you. “Dad, do you think I can have your toy?” “Depends, if it’s a good one”. But I was left alone that day. I still have two Happy Meals, and in that little toy box, he has my blue toy.

When I was younger, I always thought that if I had to choose between my wife and my child, I would choose my wife because I could always just have a new child. I thought this for a while, even after you were born. I told her this as a joke when she was pregnant. She got furious at me when I told her this, but I couldn't stop laughing. “How dare you! I am having your chil,d and I'm going to continue to have him for the next 6 months! If anything ever happens to him, you are a dead man. You hear me?” “Okay, I promise. If we ever get shot at or if there is a hurricane, I will use you like a human shield and hold our dear child. I'll whisper to his little face: “Mommy wanted this.” “In that story, we are using you as our human shield.” I kissed her on the nos,e and she gave me the warmest smile. I guess you got it from her.

I don't remember the exact moment when I changed my mind about choosing you over your mom. I don't think there’s any person in this world who is weirder than your mom. She drools when she sleeps, and when we are out, she makes these game noises. It would be at the most random times, but without fail, it would be at the wrong moment. I love it when she sticks her tongue out right before she dances or says something a little goofy. I love it. The first time you smiled was because of your mom. You were a sad baby; you rarely smiled or laughed. I tried spraying whipped cream on my face to get you to smile, but your mom hung that picture for years in our room. She danced one night to “As Time Goes By,” and she kept on spinning and spinning around the couches in the living room. I was holding on to you because your mother has two left feet, but as she did her last little spin, she tripped and fell straight into the whipped cream. I don’t think I ever saw you laugh until that moment. And I knew in that moment that I would grab your mother and use her as a blockade to protect you from anything. You have her infectious smile, like a plague that has the whole room happy.

When I think about losing you, I think of the happiness you brought us. I think about how much you will miss your bunny and that little blankie. I think about the first time you rode your bike. I think about the color blue. I think about the best parts of myself and your mother. I think about how the pain you were saved from. I think about when parents love their kids, they never wish any harm upon them. They imagine a life full of happiness for them, where dreams are reality and hope is destiny. I’m glad you left in peace because there is so much bad in the world that you never got to see. But I know that I would take your spot right now if I could. I know that if all the bad in the world could face you, I would have you behind me. You’d be tugging on my shirt, wishing to fight with me. “No, this is for your good. I love you, buddy, please stand behind me.” “But Dad, they are so scary. There is so much, and it is so dark.” “Remember what I told you, buddy, close your eyes and imagine your bunny with your blankie. Think of them. They make you happy, right?” “Yeah, Dad, they do.” “Good, just sit down and remember them. I love you.” I’d grab your lightsaber and fight them all. Because that’s what dads do.