Waging war in the urban jungle

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Does God make it any easier?

There's a blog I've been reading. It's the story of a very brave young man named Luke who, sadly, lost the battle today to Leukemia. He was only a few years older than Paulo and a few younger than Dimitri. I can see my baby in him and my big man. I have very distinct memories of Dimitri at that age, he became a big brother. Luke lost his life. Same age. It is just so very, very sad.

I, along with most Mothers, cannot help but think what if? when I read the story of young Luke. What if it were Dimitri? What if it were Paulo? What would I do if it were my son who lay dying in front of me? Would I be strong enough? Would I crumble and fall? Who would pick me up? Where would my support come from? This young boy, whom I've never met, even invaded my dreams last weekend. I dreamt about his death but in my dream the child who lay dying was Paulo. I woke up and cried in my bed. I was never so happy to see him come into my room as I was that early Saturday morning.

I read this family's beautiful blog and I was struck with how secure they were in their faith. They truly with every ounce of their soul believe that they will see their son again in Heaven. They are 100% sure that God has greeted their child upon his death and he is smiling and painfree with Jesus. This faith sustained them through their son's two year battle and today, tragically, his death. I am in awe of that. I don't know that I would be able to handle it with as much grace as I saw in their postings. I would be angry, really, really angry. I wonder sometimes if a strong faith in a higher power-whichever version makes the most sense to you-is the key. I often wonder about faith. Where does it come from? Why is it here? Maybe it is here to sustain us during tragedy. What does it mean that I don't have it? I'm not secure in any faith. I was not raised "in the Church" and I have no real basis for what I believe, nor do I do any sort of regular study or spiritual growth. So what would hold me up if Paulo got sick? What would hold him up? This child was so secure in his own faith, a child of 9, he fully and faithfully believed he was headed to heaven. He knew he was dying but that didn't frighten him at the end. He knew he would go to heaven. Seriously, the whole thing just left me awestruck. People seem so cynical today but this boy, this sweet and simple boy, was not. And he wasn't angry or afraid.

The parents were so strong too, again, I'm not sure I would be as strong. I'm sure a big part of that comes from their shared faith. There was never a negative tone to anything they wrote. They seemed to really be able to support each other well. When I think of them and I think of my own marriage I wonder, would we fair as well? When my Mother died Rene didn't really know what to do or to say, so he chose to do and say nothing. This, while understandable since grief is so uncomfortable to watch, did nothing to help me through a very painful time in my life. I would hope that if it were our son who was sick he would dig a little deeper and make the effort to stay connected to me, to give me support both verbal and physical, to comfort me when I cried, and I would hope that he would be strong enough to receive all those things from me. There is strength in grief. Expressing grief should never be seen as sign of weakness, but I think sadly it is to many. Sometimes all that is needed is a simple, I'm so sorry you're hurting, and a touch of the hand, but you have to reach out, you have to take the time to make the connection. And first you have to be aware. Aware of the impact. Aware of the pain. Aware of the need. See a need, fill a need. It's such a simple concept but when it comes to emotional support so rarely practiced.

I'm very sad today for the Jensen family. They've lost a part of themselves today. A child. A boy. Luke. A child I never met, and a family I will never meet, but just the same he impacted me. Perhaps that is his legacy, the impact he had on countless people who never met him. The lessons learned in his short, and painful, life. I hear them in my heart. Don't sweat the small stuff Krista. Never forget to be grateful that your children are healthy. Be grateful for every smile, every hug and, yes, even every tear, because it means your boys are with you. Show your love every chance you get. Take time and give time. Time is a precious gift.

Rest in peace Luke and to the Jensen Family, thank you for sharing your son with us. Thank you for sharing his story. And you have my deepest condolences for your loss.

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