I could tell as soon as I walked into the room Grace was in she was probably not having the best moment of her life at this time. I did get a smile from her as I walked in, which made me smile in return, in light of really just wanting to cry. I don't know why I hesitated to go near her today. Maybe it was because she looked less lively than the first visit I had with her. Maybe it was because I am never sure when the last visit will be that I will have with this strong little angel. No matter how mentally prepared I am sometimes, it is never enough, when faced with the misfortune of others.
It wasn't long before Grace spoke up and made if very clear that I should come in, move closer, sit down. It made me laugh. She was bossy today, something I get accused of almost on a daily basis. What little spunk she was showing, I was beginning to feel like this visit might prove to be a little tougher than the last. I struggle in life with time restrictions, always worried I will not be able to spend enough time with one individual before I need to move on to spend time with the next. Something I work on, but not something I get progressively better at.
I do not visit Grace with the intent on anything more then letting this little girl tell me her story. I cannot make her cancer take a hike. I cannot make her short life any longer than God intends for it to be. I cannot ease her mind about her fate. I cannot. I cannot. I cannot. What I can do, if only for a brief time, is to make a connection with her that not only lets her know people care, but also lets her know she is not alone.
"What do you want the world to know today my little Amazing Grace?" I ask my newest little friend.
"Today I want the world to know, it is big enough to hold all of us in it, with enough space to share all the love we should have for each other." She responded to my question as if she had been thinking about it for the eight years she has spent on earth. We spent a little time talking about this concept, and how when you think about how many people live on earth, do we ever really take the time to get to know each other. Maybe we would be more accepting of others differences if we approached it through the concept of how much room we really do have not only on earth, but in our hearts, to share the best of everything in everyone. I made the statement to Grace, with no intent of getting an answer, that when you think deep about space and how much a heart can hold, I could almost with 100% certainty, guess that no one in the world ever uses the capacity a heart is capable of holding. Making it one of the most unused spaces in the world. Oh I think I'm so smart, and then along comes this precious little girl who puts me in my place. "I'm leaving my heart here when I die, so that some little person my age can have it, and continue to fill it up with all that love." Speechless, that is what she left me at that moment, and let me tell you, that is a bit hard to accomplish with this boy.
She very quickly throws life back in my face, as if she is here for me, not me here for her. "Tell me something about you, boy with the funny name."
I laid down next to Grace as she waited for her next round of treatment that will not cure her brain cancer, but will prolong the life they have labeled terminal, in hopes of giving science a bit longer to try to come up with something that may cure this disease that takes so many lives before their time. I told her the story of my brother Joey, who died young, however not near as young as Grace will.
Unlike adults who would dive right into condolences, excuses, reasoning, and questions that cannot be answered, Grace just took her tiny hand and slipped it into mine, and we laid next to each other, with all the silence in the world, that was comfortable and consoling. She gets it, I thought to myself. She understands the confusion, the hurt, the pain in my heart. Sometimes nothing being said, speaks louder than anything that could possibly be said.
"You can leave now Jett. Thank you for visiting me. Next time you can stay longer." She let go of my hand and shut her eyes. I quietly left wondering if maybe I had said the wrong thing, or not the said the right thing. Her mom assured me that she is just ready to begin her treatment and likes to have a moment to herself before they begin. I walked out of of there, and as I left, I swear I felt a little bit of that space in my heart fill up. I smiled, knowing she will soon leave this earth, but before she does, she was going to try to feel my heart up with more love than I think it will be able to hold.
Amazing Grace, you make me wiser.
It wasn't long before Grace spoke up and made if very clear that I should come in, move closer, sit down. It made me laugh. She was bossy today, something I get accused of almost on a daily basis. What little spunk she was showing, I was beginning to feel like this visit might prove to be a little tougher than the last. I struggle in life with time restrictions, always worried I will not be able to spend enough time with one individual before I need to move on to spend time with the next. Something I work on, but not something I get progressively better at.
I do not visit Grace with the intent on anything more then letting this little girl tell me her story. I cannot make her cancer take a hike. I cannot make her short life any longer than God intends for it to be. I cannot ease her mind about her fate. I cannot. I cannot. I cannot. What I can do, if only for a brief time, is to make a connection with her that not only lets her know people care, but also lets her know she is not alone.
"What do you want the world to know today my little Amazing Grace?" I ask my newest little friend.
"Today I want the world to know, it is big enough to hold all of us in it, with enough space to share all the love we should have for each other." She responded to my question as if she had been thinking about it for the eight years she has spent on earth. We spent a little time talking about this concept, and how when you think about how many people live on earth, do we ever really take the time to get to know each other. Maybe we would be more accepting of others differences if we approached it through the concept of how much room we really do have not only on earth, but in our hearts, to share the best of everything in everyone. I made the statement to Grace, with no intent of getting an answer, that when you think deep about space and how much a heart can hold, I could almost with 100% certainty, guess that no one in the world ever uses the capacity a heart is capable of holding. Making it one of the most unused spaces in the world. Oh I think I'm so smart, and then along comes this precious little girl who puts me in my place. "I'm leaving my heart here when I die, so that some little person my age can have it, and continue to fill it up with all that love." Speechless, that is what she left me at that moment, and let me tell you, that is a bit hard to accomplish with this boy.
She very quickly throws life back in my face, as if she is here for me, not me here for her. "Tell me something about you, boy with the funny name."
I laid down next to Grace as she waited for her next round of treatment that will not cure her brain cancer, but will prolong the life they have labeled terminal, in hopes of giving science a bit longer to try to come up with something that may cure this disease that takes so many lives before their time. I told her the story of my brother Joey, who died young, however not near as young as Grace will.
Unlike adults who would dive right into condolences, excuses, reasoning, and questions that cannot be answered, Grace just took her tiny hand and slipped it into mine, and we laid next to each other, with all the silence in the world, that was comfortable and consoling. She gets it, I thought to myself. She understands the confusion, the hurt, the pain in my heart. Sometimes nothing being said, speaks louder than anything that could possibly be said.
"You can leave now Jett. Thank you for visiting me. Next time you can stay longer." She let go of my hand and shut her eyes. I quietly left wondering if maybe I had said the wrong thing, or not the said the right thing. Her mom assured me that she is just ready to begin her treatment and likes to have a moment to herself before they begin. I walked out of of there, and as I left, I swear I felt a little bit of that space in my heart fill up. I smiled, knowing she will soon leave this earth, but before she does, she was going to try to feel my heart up with more love than I think it will be able to hold.
Amazing Grace, you make me wiser.
