"Everyone say cheese and smile," Bob said while looking at his camera, one arm on his wife's shoulder and another hand on his 9-month-baby.
The sky had been good to them on this day which they had allocated purposely for some photo shoot. The beam of sun ray radiating hope. The sweet breeze at the grass field singing hymn of peace.
For a moment after the shot, both husband and wife were quiet. Taking in every breathe of air, capturing every moments and actions from their lovely boy. His cheeky smile often implied that life is full of joy — that nothing could take away giggles and laughter.
They loved to see his face without the breathing support mask, free from feeding tube attached to nostrils. Finally, baby Jon's whole face could be admired. So round. So meaty. So bouncy. Bubbly and lively. He had been in palliative care for 5 months and doctors said it was time to create memories that lasted. Green green grass of home. So there they were, capturing every moments which last.
And they were not going to put back the breathing support machine on him. Nor did he need oxygen anymore. It was time to let him go. No more daily morphine as it had reached the limit. Yet his lungs would never be able to breathe. Borned without surfactant, a mystery unknown.
Slowly and peacefully, baby Jon fell to sleep, lying sweetly on Bob's arms, coupled by Susie's kisses on forehead. His breathing slowed down. Then, everything seemed to pause when he stopped breathing.
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