My Son’s Goodbye to His Best Friend
After Zeke’s tragic playground accident left him in a coma, my son Eli became quiet—his only words, “Is Zeke okay?”
When we finally visited the hospital, Eli brought a worn action figure Zeke had once given him. He placed it gently beside his friend and whispered, “You can have him back now.”
Outside, Eli told me softly, “He’s already gone, Mom.”
That night, I saw Eli talking to someone. For a moment, I saw Zeke—faint and glowing—smiling beside him. “Thanks for the toy,” he said. “I’m going where I’m meant to be.”
The hospital called the next morning. Zeke had passed just after midnight.
Weeks later, a lawyer informed us Zeke had left Eli his toys, books, and a small inheritance—a final gift of love and friendship.
I may never understand that night, but I know this: sometimes love says goodbye in its own quiet way—and leaves behind peace.
