Morning came.
It was somber. It was sad.
It was very sad.
All of us said our good-byes.
Aaron was taken away so we waited.
We were told the organs had to be harvested in a certain time frame which meant Aaron had to pass away by a certain time.
So, we waited.
And then the strangest news came from his doctor - Aaron didn't die.
He was supposed to die because of all the trauma to his brain.
His breathing should have stopped on it's own, having been disconnected from the ventilator.
But Aaron had a very strong heart.
Or, God had another plan.
Early in the afternoon, Aaron was brought back up to his room.
He was breathing on his own, his heart was beating strong.
There was no false hope that he was going to wake up.
It was a matter of time before he died.
I was sitting with Aaron's mom when she stood up to leave.
She asked, "Amy, will you stay with Aaron today and come get me when it happens?"
I couldn't believe she trusted me with her son's final moments.
"Yes," I said, without hesitation.
I stood watch over Aaron like a knight guarding a castle.
I watched the nurses check on him and asked questions.
I was able to answer questions his mom and dad asked.
Family members felt better knowing I was in there keeping watch over him.
Hours passed by and nothing changed. It got to be around 10:00 p.m.
I thought to myself, "Why is he still here? What's holding him here?"
Then I remembered something. He hasn't had a bath today.
This young guy likes to be clean and he hasn't had a bath.
I went to the nurse's station and asked if they could give Aaron a bath.
Yes, they sure could.
I sat in a chair at the foot of the bed (not watching, of course). Just as the nurse was finishing up I asked, "Is one of the signs, of him passing away, his blood pressure dropping like that?" "Yes." "Should I go get his family?" "Yes."
I quickly scooted out to the waiting room just as his mom and dad were about to get into the elevator. I said, "It's time." Aaron's mom looked at me and I waved she and Aaron's dad toward me and said, "C'mon, now, it's time."
As they hurried she said, "Family only."
I stayed in the waiting room and she said, "Amy, you're with me."
Aaron's dad, his oldest brother, his aunt and uncle, myself, his mom and his other aunt and uncle surrounded his bed. His other family members and girlfriend were either in the waiting room or too exhausted so they went home earlier.
We watched the monitor as Aaron's blood pressure slowly went down.
Those of us in that room watched his life transition peacefully and quietly.
And when that machine made the sound that broke the silence,
I knew our loved one was in the arms of the One who brought him home.
And the bath?
Well, let's just say, I still think Aaron got the last laugh.
