Blake is desperately ill. Doc has stayed at the ranch for the last two days. He says that Blake could die from the infection that rages through his system. No, no, even God could not be that cruel. The man that I love so dearly, the man that I share children with? No, oh God please no.
I have actually prayed many times over the last few days. That's strange for me because I have not prayed since all of the evil that entered my life. I felt a need to blame something, someone, for all of the events since my family left France.
Yet, where else can I turn. Who can I cry to? My prayers are not really gentle pleadings. They are angered rants. I scream at God...begging him to deliver Blake from this infection.
Blake knows nothing, and no one. Yesterday he was talking to Sarah as though she was in the room with us. The day before he spoke to Ardis. Sometimes I wish I could see what he does. What I would give to see Mama and Papa again...so precious and amazing that would be...even for a moment.
Jamie is too young to understand how serious this situation is. He is his usual bumblebee self, running headlong towards trouble on a moment to moment basis. It's hard for me to watch the boys right now. I simply want to be by Blake's side, all the time, all the time, all the time!
Sophronia heard about the situation. She came yesterday and took the boys home with her. She's such a beloved, dear friend. Since I have few friends the ones that I have I cherish.
Doc has been a source of faith and strength. He seems so serious and a bit overwhelming, quite frankly, but then he turns and winks at me and I realize that he is like a chocolate caramel. His exterior is strong and firm, but inside is a gooey, loving center.
I sponge Blake again, again, and again, trying to keep his fever from raging too high. He turns and twists in the covers, soaking them again, and again with sweat from that blistering heat filling his body.
Red has not slept in days. Finally this afternoon I sent him to bed. I threatened that I would tell the boys that there was no St. Nicholas...of course I wouldn't, but he was so tired that was all it took to get him to go to bed.
I sit here now next to Blake. He has been a little more still these last two hours. His stillness frightens me more than his sweating tossing and turning did. I am alone with him. Doc finally had to leave to care for his other patients.
Oh God, if you are even in the Heavens bless Blake. I love him God, I love him with all my heart and soul. Please bring him back from death's door. I simply can not bear one more death...I fear that I would die as well if he dies. After all, what would I have left to live for?
Oh, right, the boys. If Blake dies I really would be their Mother. Yes, I would live for the boys, but please do NOT take Blake from us.
I must quit writing. The tears are coming so thick and fast that I will smear the ink.
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