I sat on my bed this morning holding my four-month old son and watched on my laptop the funeral of ten-year old Rex. Almost a year ago, I attended a funeral for seven-year old Liam. Both these boys eventually succumbed to cancer, and both lived courageously as they faced the possibility of death. I rejoice that both are now completely healed and completely free. And I grieve for their parents, siblings, and grandparents who painfully feel their absence.
I am amazed at how their parents fought these battles alongside their children, championing them on, keeping family and friends updated on Caring Bridge, maintaining a sense of normalcy for the child in the hospital as well as their other children. I looked at my own son and wondered how you answer questions about test
results and treatment plans and life expectancy when the one asking them is your child. I cannot imagine having to navigate those waters for myself, much less for and with my child. They have exemplified a faith that not only lives life well, but dies well, with trust, dignity, hope, and courage. I want to thank them and their sons for sharing hope in the midst of their tragedy, for demonstrating how to live and die well, and for showing grace to us who don't know what to say or how to adequately express our sympathy.
And when I stand on the brink of death, I want to be like them.
