Part 13: Erik's Despair
I never left Erik's side while he was in the hospital. The doctors brought me meals and blankets for during the night. I sat there, watching over my son as he lay there unconscious, crying and praying for God to help him. He was only a child; an incredibly talented child that this never should have happened to. It never should have happened to anyone. Msr. Reyer and the professor spent a lot of time with me as well, but that time was nothing but silence and prayer. The professor felt terribly guilty and blamed the whole incident on himself. I was in no state to protest like I would have, for it wasn't his fault at all. It was no ones. This was only a freak accident. No one could have known that it would have happened. But it did and the only thing that we could do was pray that Erik would pull through this.
Erik did manage to pull through it and was released a while later to go home. I was beside myself with relief as the doctors wheeled him out in his chair to the waiting area where I sat with Msr. Reyer. As the doctor had said, Erik was unable to walk. I was only glad to have him alive, although I knew that it would take both of us some time to adapt to the drastic change in our life style. Especially for Erik. He hated having people do things for him when he knew he could do them himself. His eyes emitted every single emotion that stirred inside him. Mostly anger and utter despair. I knew exactly what he was thinking about; his career at the opera and his music.
Erik sat downstairs in his chair in front of the window. I had drawn back the curtains for him to see the outside world. Ever since the accident, he refused to go outside in public. He was to ashamed of his appearance to let any one but family and close friends see him. I watched him from the base of the stairs, fighting back the tears the brimmed in my eyes. I went over to him and kneeled by his side. "It's a beautiful day out, isn't it?" I asked, trying to be cheery. He looked at me with cold eyes for a moment, then turned his gaze back out the window. I bit my bottom lip and sighed softly. "Erik, this is silly. You should go out and get some fresh air."
"No. No one can see me like this."
"There's nothing wrong with the way you look."
"Look at me, Mother. I am an invalid now. I am no longer considered a normal member of society. I would only get teased if I went out."
"Who cares about society?" I asked gently. "We were not put here on earth to please others. We were put here to enjoy the gift of life that God has given us and do our best to spread his teachings."
"Perhaps, but unfortunately society doesn't look at it like that. And once you are no longer part of society, you have no hope of ever having a normal life."
I sighed again, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit to it. I had to make him see that there was more to life then pleasing the petty demands of society. "Erik, look at your father. His...predicament was just as bad as yours, but he still was able to have a happy life."
"But he died at the end, didn't he?" he retorted, looking at me with a cold stare.
I was caught in between hurt and shock. Unable to speak for a moment, I stood and looked away from him, blinking back tears. "I'm sorry, Mother...this is just so hard for me," he said, his voice breaking. I looked at him and kneeled down by his side and held him close, stroking his hair.
"I know, love. It's hard for me too, but we can't give up. As long as we have each other, everything will be all right."
I awoke the next morning to a dull thud that came from one of the rooms down the hall. I rose and surveyed my surroundings to discover that I had fallen asleep on the divan in the sitting room. After a long moment of silence, I decided it was only my imagination and settled back down to go back to sleep, but then the sound came again. Puzzled and a little frightened, I slowly made my way down the hall and listened again. When I found out that it came from the room Erik was staying in, I rushed to the door and opened it carefully, taken completely aback by the sight I saw. My son was dragging himself across the floor and to the bed where he pulled himself up with effort and paused to catch his breath. Then after a moment of hesitation, he released the floorboard of the bed and began to take tiny steps of those of an infant learning to walk. He only made about two before he fell to the floor with the sound that had awoke me. I watched him, feeling total despair and at a loss of what to do as he lay there; his little shoulders heaving from the work that had obviously taken a toll on him physically and emotionally.
I slowly closed to door behind me as I stepped into the room, watching him as he remained unaware of me and he lay there crying softly on the floor. I had never really seen my son cry before and wasn't quite sure whether to comfort him or leave him be so he could have time to himself. Finally after a long pause of debate, I called his name softly. He started and looked up at me for a second, then turned and furiously wiped his face of the tears that fell down it. "Oh, Erik," I whispered and went to my knees by his side, carefully gathering his fatigued body into my arms and holding him close.
"I can't do it, Mother," he sobbed into my shoulder.
"Shhh. It's all right, my darling. I still love you."
I comforted him as best I could by rocking him in my arms and placing tender kisses on the top of his head.
"Why did this happen to me? I was supposed to be a famous singer and composer, not some demented invalid in a wheelchair."
"Hush, Erik. Your father would not approve of such talk. You have to be strong and stay positive no matter how grave the situation seems. Do you hear me?"
He didn't respond. He continued to cry into my shoulder as I held him there in the center of the floor, wishing I could help ease the pain that was tearing both of us in two.