Monday

Slap of Reality

Friday morning, as I was "whining" about Bear leaving me for another school, a mother I personally know was giving anything to have her oldest son just be alive.

When Lamb was in 1st grade, there was a sweet little boy who stumbled when he walked. Sometimes he'd fall for no apparent reason. As the school year went on & everyone got to know him & his family better, we learned that he had several disabilities. He would not live past his early twenties.

By the end of 2nd grade, he was in a wheelchair full time. His leg muscles ceased to work and there were times that his arms were too tired to function. Still, he remained cheerful & upbeat. He was embarrassed to have to ask for help and rarely complained of discomfort. If he did, you knew he meant it.

His mom would speak to the class while he was at a special class about what his disabilities were and to answer any questions. She only had to do that for a couple of years. Everyone knew him and everyone loved him. They accepted him.

When I became a faculty member, he was in 4th grade. I was fortunate enough to work with him & his best friend. I was able to get to know him & his mom better. As all children do, he moved on to his different schools. In his first year of high school, he became involved with the tech side of drama. The tech teacher really took him under his wing and helped tremendously.

Last Thursday, they were a family of five: two parents who loved their kids, the older brother who was Lamb's age, and two younger siblings. The mother is battling cancer while still doing everything possible to ease the comfort of her oldest and be there for the two youngest.

Last Friday, while I was sad, she was grieving. That sweet 15 yr. old boy passed away. He had been in the hospital for awhile. Complications from a surgery caused his heart to start to fail. Ever the sweet boy, he told his mother he would do it again in a heartbeat. Because the pain was gone. What a gift he gave the mother who was questioning the decision for the surgery.

And a special shout out to the wrestler, The Undertaker. The boy is a huge wrestling fan. I'm not sure how, but he ended up talking to The Undertaker on the phone for hours. The wrestler prayed with him, laughed with him, and listened. He's now all right in my book.

Yes, I'm still sad that our lives have changed. But I am so very grateful that I have a son who will come home to me at the end of the day.

Godspeed, Sweet Boy. I know you are running, jumping, dancing with the angels.


3 comments:

Debbie said...

Oh Dana. How terrible sad.

forgetfulone said...

That is so terribly sad. Sure puts things into perspective for us. I'm glad you got to know him.

Patois said...

Makes all other whinging seem far too self-centered. How lucky you are to have known him.