When I was in high school a bunch my friends and I
frequently skipped school. Jane, Rob, and myself were
particularly close. Jane began dating Rob's older brother
and about a year later, they had a baby boy, Peter. While
Jane and I grew up and left behind days of skipping school
and drinking for University and goals, Rob faltered and
seemed to become more and more 'into' drug abuse.
Neither of us hung out with Rob much anymore but I would
see him out about town and we would talk about Peter. We
laughed about all the things we were going to teach him,
all the stories we would tell him, and it was clear that
Rob loved his nephew as much as he loved anything. The way
his face lit up when he talked about him showed it all.
Peter was a little over a year old when Rob died suddenly,
still a young man. Peter was too young to try and explain
to that his loving uncle was gone forever, so none of us
did. We even refrained from talking about it in front of
Peter because he had a habit of mimicking everything he
heard at that point.
The night Rob died, Jane slept with Peter in her bed for
comfort. In the middle of the night, Jane awoke because
Peter had been talking in his sleep. He didn't usually talk
in his sleep. The night-light was on and she could see her
angelic son, asleep and smiling. "Hi, Wobby" he said
clearly, as though he were awake. After a few seconds of
silence, his smile falling slightly, he said "Ok.. bye bye
Unky Wob" and then he was silent and sleeping normally
again.
She told me all this the next day, and despite my logical
mind trying to tell me that Peter had heard people talking
about Rob and was just rehashing things, in my heart I
believed otherwise. I knew that Rob had found a way to
explain to his beloved nephew that he wasn't going to see
him anymore, but that he loved him and would watch over
him.
Submitted From: