When we checked in, she went into the toilet almost immediately, out of concern, I asked her if she required any medication, and was about to leave the room when she called from inside, saying she was fine, asking me not to bother. Thus I sat on the bed, and switched on the tv. It was around 1.10pm and we had agreed on 2pm for lunch as I told the gang that Jane wasnt feeling too well.After a couple of minutes, Jane emerged from the toilet, decked out in a nurse uniform coupled with a plastic syringe, I gasped as I looked at her, half smiling half laughing.'I heard you are unwell sir, how about a little medication for you?' she purred.I fumbled with the remote a little and muted the tv, 'oh boy' was all I managed as she walked over.As she crept over to me, I whispered,'You naughty girl gal''Shhhh, you are sick, now be a good boy and take you medicine.'She guided my my hand to her breast, the uniform was silted at the chest, exposing about a quarter of her boobs, she wore a half cup. It was if she was if she were trying to compress a lifetime into a few spans of time. I would soon wish I had paid closer attention to this feeling. One Monday in January 1981 almost five months after she was born, I came home for lunch, as I walked into the living room Bethany who was sitting in her swing, broke out into one of the biggest smiles I had ever seen from her, and it warmed my heart. This is strange I thought, normally she cries when I come in, we still hadn’t grown very close and our interactions usually upset her. A little over four hours later as I pulled her limp body from her crib, a victim of what we would later learn was S.I.D.S. That smile would be the most precious gift I had ever received from her. As I relive that time my mind races along a narrow corridor, a few moments of history etched in my memory by fear and terror. Everything is in slow motion, as I remember her lips were so cold as I was trying to breathe life back into her. I prayed for her to cry out.
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