Just five minutes

Last night I dreamt about Michael.  He didn't visit me in my dreams; I couldn't talk to him, he was just there.  Today I can't remember too much about the dream other than in my dream he was young.  I wish I could remember more.  Today I have been playing through the file folder in my brain in which are stored my last pictures of Michael.  They aren't great pictures but this week I am not going to block them. 

One of Michael's friends wrote on his memory page that he wishes he could have just five minutes with him again, and I started to wonder what I would do if I was given five minutes with him.  What would I say?There would be the understanding with  God that I was only getting five minutes and then he would be gone again.  Would I take that five minutes, only to lose him again? Would I want to go through it all over?  I've put lots of thought into this and the answer is yes, I would.  If God would give him back to me just for the five minutes I would hold him, rock him, tell him I loved him. My deal with God would be that after my five minutes, God would just gently take Michael's soul and he would be gone.  I would never relive the reality of that terrible night. I wouldn't want my son to go through what he did in order to find peace.  But just to hold him for a little while, to see his beautiful eyes one more time, to assure him that we would remember him always with love, yes, I would make the deal with God.