Loss, Love, and Lessons of Life

It's been a difficult couple of days. On Friday, the news began to spread that our 13-year old neighbor and best friend to my niece Ellyse had lost her battle with leukemia. Breanna was an amazing girl who touched so many lives through this ordeal. She and Ellyse became fast friends at girls camp last summer. It was shortly following their return that they received the devastating diagnosis of AML, the most deadly kind of leukemia. She beat the odds so many times along the way, and until recently held out hope for a bone marrow transplant that would have given her a fighting chance. But it wasn't meant to be and she was ultimately called home. Cheryl took this family under her wing and has had Breanna's three siblings staying with her for extended periods of time, so that Breanna's parents could be with her at Phoenix Children's an hour away. Mark and Burke were able to visit her at Christmas time to deliver some gifts and holiday cheer courtesy of their generosity, and that of their co-workers. Mom was called on to sit with her on a couple of occasions so that her exhausted parents could have a short break. Dad rushed down to the hospital to give her a blessing in one of the more frightening moments. Everyone prayed and hoped. Cancer is merciless and frightening for anyone, but particularly cruel to a child. Truthfully, it's hard to make sense of it myself, and to find the words to explain  it to my kids.

My kids have been relatively sheltered from death in their young lives. They are aware that their Grandpa died in an accident when Dad was young, and have quizzed Wes about it on occasion. When Uncle Vance died last year, that was the first time they actually knew someone that had died. It hit them harder with Breanna because unlike 90-year old Uncle Vance, it dawned on them that anyone can die. I worried about death a lot as a kid. I was taught and have always had faith that there was life after death, and probably a pretty good one assuming you were a decent person. I know that it is part of our eternal progression, and a necessary and unavoidable step along the way. I also know that if we more fully understood the eternal design of things that death should be nothing but a celebration for the person lucky enough to escape the difficulty and pain of this existence.  No one can know for sure the mysteries of death until they pass through it themselves, and I want my kids' childhood to be happy and worry free. There is plenty of time for worry later on, but I also know that I have a responsibility to seize the teaching moments as they come along. I have had a few poignant and undeniable experiences that have sufficiently convinced me that those on the other side are doing just fine, and that's what I want my kids to know.

By the time they got off the bus Friday, they had heard the news about Breanna. Her brother and sister go to school with my boys, and their bus stop is the one right before theirs. Breanna's younger sister is Jake's age, and in the class next door. I was concerned particularly about Dylan, because he had taken enough of an interest in Breanna that he included her in his prayers every night. Sometimes I think kids have more faith than adults do, because they were so recently on the other side. This seemed to be the case as they were sad, but understanding and accepting. Thankfully, it seems that Breanna's family has been given the reassurances and tender mercies that anyone would need in facing their unthinkable loss. At least that is my prayer for them now.

Then, yesterday morning, I got he news that Uncle Richard, my Dad's only sibling had died after some complications with back surgery. Richard and my Dad are eight years apart in age. By the time Dad was eight or nine Richard was long gone, so they were not the closest of brothers. But all of us kids had an affection for Uncle Richard. He was always good to remember us at Christmas, graduations, weddings, and new additions. I received a letter from him when I got married that was brief but so thoughtful and personally meaningful, that I cherished above almost anything else I received. I think what made Richard so fascinating was the fact that he was so different from Dad. He was like Dad's alter ego. They are both great men and both dedicated their careers to education and working with youth. That was about where the similarities ended though. Richard the extroverted and free spirited liberal, Paul the introverted conservative Mormon. Despite their divergent personalities and lifestyles, it was clear that they admired and accepted each other. My fondest childhood vacation memories consist of going to visit Uncle Richard at his cabin in Big Bear, California. And as I got older, I began to appreciate how interesting and funny he was. He always had a good story to tell and he never tried to be someone he wasn't. What you see is what you get, and I like that in a person.

Shortly after Sophie was born, Richard and his two children Connie and Lawrence (cousins we barely knew) came through town as they made a cross country trip to relocate Richard from California to Virgina. It was a memorable and fun afternoon as we were able to catch up with them after so many years. It would be the last time I would get to see Richard. Uncle Richard, you will be missed.