Forced into Perspective

A tragedy in our town puts my cancer in perspective. On Saturday, one of Ethan's classmates was killed in a fire that claimed not only her life, but the lives of five of her siblings, leaving two parents and one child to comprehend this extreme loss. It leaves behind a pain in this community and forces us, as parents, to explain the unexplainable to our children. We left for vacation the day the fire occurred and received word of the deaths through a text on our way down. The numbness that followed, the shock that still lingers, and the realization that my little boy, snuggling his lamby in the backseat, was going to have to wrap his brain around death on a level that he has not had to concerned me and raised questions: Will he now be afraid of our house catching on fire? Would he perseverate on how his friend lost her life? Would he be mad at God? Would he connect her senseless death to the fragility of life and begin thinking our deaths, fearing them? We decided to wait until after vacation to tell him. I solicited advice from my friends. Bob and I agreed telling him that God saw his friend and her siblings were in trouble, so he sent angels down to save them from the fire and bring them safely to Heaven was the best way to explain it. He knows that once we are in Heaven we do not come back to Earth because God needs us more, and that Heaven is a beautiful, fun, carefree place where all our dreams come true. This is exactly how I ended up breaking the news to him days later on one of our last walks to the beach. Starting the words was the hardest, but he made it so much easier, sensing what I had to tell him was important, he stopped me and said, "Mom, don't wait, just tell me. I want to know now." So he took my hand and we kneeled down on the sidewalk where I proceeded to tell him in an emotional and not so eloquent way. I will never forget his wordless reaction. He bowed his head, shaking it up and down and let out a sigh that broke my heart. He was silent for a moment, then asked a lot of questions. And in true "kid form"he said, "I'm really sad about Mackenzie but I am so happy you didn't say it was Catlin (his best girlfriend in class)." We immediately, still kneeled there on the sidewalk, just prayed.

Kids are amazing! They take in the information and deal with it in their own way whether they fully understand it or not, they find a way to deal with it and surprise us each time. He is processing each day, mentioning her during many quiet moments, praying about her daily and nightly, healing in his own way. I am proud to watch him throughout his processing. It comforts me. Because sometimes when I think 3-5 years down this cancer road, I get worried. I am not so worried about my own mortality, as I feel the same way Ethan does about Heaven, but I worry about him. I think if God's plan is to take me earlier than expected, he will process and teach others and surprise us all.