[ WP ] Your young , dying body is frozen into suspended animation . 30 years later , you 're cured . What is life like now that your son is older and more mature than you ?

`` Think of it this way'' said the well meaning doctor `` not many mothers get to enjoy their children as grown ups. By the time our children are in their thirties, most parents winding down in life. You'll be able to participate in his life...'' 
 He trails off, sensing his pep talk was n't helping. 
 
 My beautiful little James. Only 5 when I last saw him. So sweet, so little, so dependant on me. And now he's a full grown man. Nothing more than a stranger. 
 
 A week ago - or at least it seems like a week ago - he was running to me to kiss his knee better when he grazed it, asking me to help him tie his shoes, hiding on my lap when he was scared. That's what I mourn. The childhood I've lost - the joy of watching him grow, caring for that little soul. Sure, I'm alive, he's alive, perhaps I should be grateful, but I all I feel is a desperate, agonising loss. 
 
 They may have cut the disease out, they may have cured me, and saved my life, but is this life worth living with everything I have lost? 
 
 He's coming to visit me today again. I'm not sure how to feel about that. Not sure what to say. How do you possibly start a conversation with your child who you have n't seen in 30 years, who is now older than you. 
 
 I can hear laughter down the hall. Beautiful laughter - the sweet sound of a child's joy. Just like James used to laugh. The thought hits me in the gut. I want my baby boy back. I want to die. My life as I knew it is over. 
 
 To door of the hospital room busts open. For a second my heart sings. It's my James: a mop of dark hair, those blue eyes. It ca n't be. I must be going mad. Perhaps this was the only logical way for my brain to cope. 
 
 Behind the boy, a man appears. My son. A strange adult. `` Mom'' he says, `` meet you grandson.'' And suddenly, life is worth living again.
