I had to study late into the night just to make a passing grade. Especially once I found out I was pregnant. I just barely graduated. But my oldest son, a Tweaker, was third in his graduating class and went on to Columbia to study biology. He's looking for a cure for Adam. He still feels guilty. Like he could have, should have, been able to prevent the snowmobile accident that left Adam paralyzed from the neck down.

Today I have the unlucky job of calling Tim and telling him that Adam died from complications of his last surgery. I have spent the better part of the morning trying to do just that. I have picked up the phone countless times and each time couldn't dial that last number.

"Stop being such a coward, Irene!" I tell myself. "Just call him. He can't hate you any more than he already does."

I finally gather the courage to drive the wedge just that much farther between Tim and I and dial his number.

"Mm, hello?" the groggy voice is barely recognizable.

"Tim?" I ask.

"Yeah. What ya want?" he grumbles. I have obviously woken him up.

"It's two in the afternoon. Why are you still in bed?" I can't stop myself from asking.

"Did you call just to berate me for my sleeping habits or do you have something to say?" he snaps, sounding a little bit more awake.

"I...I have..." I take a deep breath and push on. "I have to tell you something."

"Fine, then tell me so I can go back to sleep," he mutters.

"Adam...Tim, I'm so sorry," I say tears running down my face.

"Mom? Just say it. What about Adam? He had surgery on Friday. Didn't it work? What?" the last words are shouted at me.

"Adam died this morning. Oh, baby. I'm so very sorry," I finally get the words out.

Silence. All I hear is silence.

"Timmy? Did you hear me?" I ask.

"Yeah, Mom...I heard you," he says real slow almost like he can't remember how to speak. "What...um...what...what happened? Do you know?" his voice is congested sounding. Tears he won't let me hear? Will he allow me to comfort him?

"He...uh...he had a..." I stop to clear my throat before continuing. "He had a stroke during the operation. He slipped into a coma and passed away this morning."

"Why'd you wait so long to call?" he demands.

"I've been trying to call all day. Do you know how hard this is for me?"

"Do you think I really care?" the words are like a slap in the face. He really believes I don't care about him.

"Tim, baby..."

"Stop calling me baby!" he screams. "It just sounds fake coming from you. I have never been your baby, so just stop trying," and with that he hangs up on me.

I think I've just lost my son.

As that realization hits, I slide slowly down the wall to sit on the floor, silent tears flowing down my face.

How did everything get so screwed up? How did Tim go from my sweet little baby boy to the man that just told me he doesn't believe anything I say to him?

How can I get him back? Make him see that I have always loved him? That I will always love him?