The Depth of Children

There are parts of this mourning process that are more difficult than I imagined possible. Last night as I climbed the stairs to head to bed, I turned to the kids' room to give them their typical after bed kisses. My youngest was still awake. And as I leaned down to kiss his warm little cheek, he wrapped his arms around me and muffled something in my ear about dying from cancer.

I pulled back to ask his answer one more time.

"What did you say, baby?"

"When I get sick like Joey, I'm going to die. And then you're going to have write that girl a letter that wanted to marry me (one of the young women that I taught at church wrote a darling letter to him about wanting to marry him when he grew up), and tell her that I died."

I was sick already at the direction this conversation was heading.

"Baby, you're not going to get Joey's sickness. He had a sickness called cancer and it's not the same sicknesses that you sometimes get."

"But somebody gave Joey that sickness and then he died."

"Oh, sweetheart, no one gave Joey that sickness. When Joey was born, his body was a little bit broken and then he got cancer, and then he died. Your body isn't broken like his was. (Joey had many, many illnesses including ulcerative colitis, which is what led to his colon cancer.)"

Then we talked a lot about how Jimmy's been sick. A few days after Joey passed away, Jimmy was hit with a terrible flu. He was sicker than I have ever seen him; and although, I was extremely grateful to have a child to take care of to take me from the pain of the funeral preparations, I was terrified because it so closely mirrored many of Joey's past symptoms. I actually wondered that if Jimmy was going to get ulcerative colitis now that Joey was gone. That maybe the disease had been held off so that I could focus on one child at a time. I was sick with fear (as was my husband). I don't think we are ever going to relax and just accept childhood illnesses as just that "childhood illnesses." Instead, we are going to panic and worry at every sniffly nose, ever fever, and every flu. We don't have the luxury of not worrying. Our entire reality has shifted and what was once an impossibility is now a complete and total possibility. It scares me!

After I calmed some of Jimmy's fears or at least tried to, his conversation took a slightly different turn.

"I want to die so that I can see Joey again. I miss Joey a lotta lot."

"Oh, baby (tears streaming down my face), Joey misses you a lotta lot too; but he's not ready to see you again. He wants you to have fun here on earth before he's ready for you to come to heaven."

"Is Joey having fun in heaven?"

"I'll bet he's having lots of fun and laughing and playing."

"Is Heavenly Father laughing with him?"

"I'll bet He is. I'll bet He's very happy to have Joey with him. It's prettier in heaven than it is here, baby."

"I want it to be pretty here too."

"Do you remember what we did today?"

"We went to the pool."

"And did you have fun?"

"Yes," he said giggling.

"Then see. We have lots of fun and pretty things here too," I encouraged.

"Does heaven have a park?"

"Maybe, baby. Maybe!"

Then he paused, took a moment, and asked me, "Did we have our kiss and hug today?" (We always kiss and hug the kids in turn after our family prayers.)

"No, I don't think we did."

He reaches up to me and wraps his warm little arms around me and then we kiss. I am trying hard to hide my tears and runny nose from him. He's worried way too much for any child tonight. I don't want him to see my fear and sorrow. He finishes his hug and turns towards the wall. He's done talking.

Have I comforted him? Have I alleviated his fears? Will Cancer always be a threat to our family or was this just a one time tragedy?

As I said my prayers last night, I wanted desperately to ask that the Lord would spare him from that kind of pain. But part of the Lord's plan includes suffering, and I can't promise my children that they will never suffer. That breaks my heart on a level that never has before. I can't promise them a life without disappointments, without pain, and without suffering. It's going to happen. But what I did pray for was that my children would not live in fear of it. That they can live their lives happily without the constant worry of what's around the corner. That is not what I want, and I'm certain that it's not what the Lord wants.

Last night was excruciating! I realized that mourning Joey is going to be a lifetime process and there are many aspects of it that I have yet to deal with. I'm afraid of those moments, but I'm grateful to the two beautiful children I have living, still on earth.

Here's to Katelyn and Jimmy:

I can be strong for them. I am their mama, and while I can't protect them from everything, I can love and support and comfort them. I will be strong for them!

Helping Others in Times of Need

There is something within our human spirit that reaches out to others when they are in pain. I am sure it is part of our divine nature. We long to ease the burden of our fellow man. But sometimes we are at a loss as to how to accomplish that.

When Joey was ill and after his passing, I was touched by MANY helping hands. Each one loving, unique, and full of generosity. It strengthened my little family, blessed our lives, gave us power to carry on, and eased our pain. You should never underestimate your personal power to help another.

After Joseph's passing, I have been keenly aware of others' suffering. Perhaps it is because we belong to an elite group of people that have suffered loss. It is a painful group to belong to, but it makes you sensitive to others' pain. It is an awakening of sorts.

But while losing someone you love makes you more aware; it does not take something so awful and so drastic to inspire empathy. Many of those that touched my life had not lost loved ones and yet knew exactly how to lift my spirits. I believe that is a gift of the spirit granted by the One that loves us most. I am grateful that people chose to exercise their gift in behalf of my family.

In appreciation for their amazing efforts and acts of kindness, I wanted to list some of the ways that we received assistance and additional and unique ways that you can help your fellow man. Sometimes having something specific that you can do, makes it easier to reach out.

Acts of Kindess:
* Take in a hot meal or a frozen meal for future use
* Offer to babysit their children in our out of their home
* Offer to take a child to an appointment or for lunch
* Mow their lawn or put out their garbage can on garbage day
* Drop off the message from church if they were unable to attend
* Purchase a gas card for them if they have multiple doctor appoints in far away cities
* Give them space when they need it, and be there when they need it
* Saying, "I'm sorry for your loss" is often all that's needed
* In lieu of flowers, send a plant or make a donation to a worthy cause in the family's name
* Offer to fold their laundry, do their dishes, or mop their floor (trust me they get too tired to do these things some times)
* Send a hand made card to let them know you are thinking about them
* Send the family photos you have taken and your memories so they have a new perspective on their lost family member
* Donate blood to the blood bank
* Prepare activities that can be used in a hospital/doctor's office
* Loan the family movies or books
* And finally, make a donation of any kind where it best helps the family

There are many, many ways that we can help each other. I cannot personally thank all the people that reached out to my family during Joseph's illness; but I can pay it forward and help others in need whether it be my neighbor next door or those suffering far away. We cannot underestimate our own gift for loving our fellow man. We are capable of lifting another's burden and supporting them until they are stronger.

I know. It happened to me.

If you have other ways that you have been helped, or have suggestions for others, will you please post them in your comments? I would love to know how I can best help another.