Amazing Grace XXII: A Graceful Date

I was really anxious for my date with Grace on Saturday.  We had planned it so our date would be during the hours that always seemed to be where her strength held out the strongest.   She had promised me she would be well rested, with the understanding that if she wasn't feeling her best, we would reschedule our date for another time.  We had been texting each other throughout the morning, both of us excited to get to spend a fun day together.  I would be her first date ever, and I was happy I would always be able to make that claim.  When we talked about going on a date, she would giggle.  I can not imagine what she thought a date would be like.  Perhaps she related it to her barbies, and how she would fantasize about those dates.

We had reservations at Olive Garden (OG) and I think she wanted to go there for a couple reasons, one - she had never been to OG before and two - I had told her how when I was dating Kristy, that was our date place to go.  We had even googled it a few times, to cover the menu.  I would tease her about what kind of wine we should get with our meal.  She always rolled those green eyes at me, and gave me that look.  You know the look, the look that says 'you are so funny and charming'.  OK, not THAT look, but the other one, as if she were thinking 'why did I ever agree to this date with you anyway'.

Not only was I looking forward to spending more time with Grace, I was also looking towards a day where our conversations would be casual.  I loved listening to her tell me what to write in my notebook that I would blog, and share with anyone interested in Grace's journey.  That being said, it would be great being with Grace where she was not dictating her story to me, but we were adding to her story and making a new memory.  I thought about this on the drive over to Grace's house, and could not help but smile and feel much happiness that today, we would be together as friends first, secondary to our routine of documenting her life.

I had already stopped and bought Grace a little white rose decorated with pink ribbons corsage for our date.  I had to special request one with just one rose, or they would be too big on her tiny wrist.  The lady helping me with it chatted me up with a dozen or so questions before I finally put her mind to ease.  "It is not for a prom, or a dance.  It is for my little angel sister, I am taking her on her first date, and her favorite color is pink."  She complimented me on being a good big brother, which always makes me smile, because I have always wondered had my baby sister not died, would I have been the best big brother to her she would need.

Corsage in hand, I approached Grace's house, slowing walking up the stairs of the front porch.  I honestly thought she might possibly be waiting for me on the front porch swing, eager to get going on our date.  Then I remembered, not only is Grace a girl, she is a girly girl, and she will be fashionably late.  All the females in my life are always fashionably late.  In fact, I am sure Brad Paisley's Waiting On A Woman was written with my dating life in mind.  I was right and as I was invited in by Grace's father he apologized that his daughter must take after her mother, running late and getting a few last looks in the mirror.  I gave him my theory on the Brad Paisley song and we shared a laugh over how every guy in the world probably had felt that way one time or another.  Her father and I sat and visited for about 20 minutes waiting on my date to come out from her closet.  He thanked me for being willing to spend time with Grace and let her experience a bit more of the life she will miss out on.  If I could only express to her parents how it was my pleasure and I was honored to be chosen to spend this time with her.  I told him to not worry about sticking around the house today, that they should run off and just have a date of their own and we could communicate via cell phones on how the day is going.  If nothing else, Grace could come back to my house with me and spend some time with the Misfits, that she will never be able to get enough of.

Fashionably late, but not too late, Grace and her mom finally emerged into the family room of their home.  She was all smiles, just the cutest little angel all decked out I have ever seen.  Clearly Grace and her mother put some thought and time into her first date appearance.  A plaid pink country shirt, cowgirl style blue jeans, and pink kicks!  I could not help but notice as Grace walked she extended her legs out as she stepped towards me in her new pink kicks.  "Pink kicks.  Niiiice."  I told her.  "You look very pretty Grace, if you were my age I'd even say you looked GORGEOUS."   She grinned ear to ear and then noticed the pink and white bag in my hand.  "What do you have there in that bag Jett?"   I reached in and took out the little wrist corsage and told her to put her arm out.  She did this, and I slipped the flower over her hand, onto her wrist.  "It is very pretty Jett, thank you for it."

I asked Grace if she was ready for her first trip to OG.  "Yes I am.  I am very hungry today too Jett, I hope you brought a lot of money along with you."  She makes me laugh.  "Typical girl, after all my money."  I say to her.  Grace kisses her parents goodbye and tells them she will be home late.  We hold hands and head out to my truck.  I compliment her on her choice of outfits and tell her how much 'I LOVE THOSE KICKS'.  It keeps her smiling, and I suspect Grace also loves her new kicks.  We get buckled in and we are off on our date.  It's a short ride but not short enough that we do not fit in a conversation about today's events.  I tell Grace we will eat leisurely, enjoy a good meal and some laughs, perhaps drink 2 bottles of wine, taking all the time in the world and not rush our meal together.  "What is it with you and wine?  You know I am not old enough for wine and I do not think you are either."  She tells me.  She acts like she is annoyed with me, but I can see the smirk on her face.  "I think I want to drive your truck on the way home Jett, is that OK with you?"  This is Grace trying to out wit me at my own game.  We had formed this competition early on, and I think we both would agree, there could be no clear winner at this game between us.  "OK."  I tell Grace. "But you will not be able to drink wine."  I get the typical eye roll from her, and give it right back.

We find a spot to park and just as I am about to ask Grace if she is ready to go in, I look at her and see tears in her eyes.  I wanted them to be tears of joy, but I could tell something was going on and asked Grace if she was going to be ok.  "I forgot my lid Jett, I wanted to bring my pink hat today."   I instantly thought of how when I introduced Grace to Kristy, she was real upset because she was not wearing her hat, and Kristy's hair was so pretty to her.  I was getting the feeling that Grace was going to have comfort issues out in public with the stares she would get from being bald, and revealing a few scars from her surgeries.  I get out of my truck and open the back hatch and pull out one of my hockey lids.  I walk around to Grace's door and open it, putting the hat on her backwards.  "Total babe in that hat right there Gracie, does that feel better to you?"   She gets out of the truck and grabs my hand.  "Yes, thank you Jett.  I am sorry I forgot to wear a lid today."  I tell her there is no reason to be sorry and reassure her that girls often wear boys hats and coats when they are out on dates.  I wipe the tears from her cheeks as we enter the OG.  "We have reservations today, for Grace and Jett."  I tell the hostess.  We were being seated rather quickly and when we stood next to the booth Grace asked where she should sit.  I told her she can sit on either side, and we can sit next to each other, or across from each other.  "I would like to sit across from you so we can see each other in our eyes."  She says.  We sit and as I look across at my little angel, there is not much of her showing above the table.  I convince her that a booster seat would be more comfortable for her when her food arrived.  "After all", I tell her, "Kristy has to use a booster seat too you know."  One she is boosted up and we can see each other better, we begin to look at the menu.  I want her to experience the 5 course meal and tell her it will be a lot of food, but what we do not eat, they will let us take home with us.  Grace thought that was just 'amaaaaazing' that we get to take some home to her daddy.

Our meal was delicious, all of it, from the Bella Limonata drinks to the Dolcini desserts.  Of course there were plenty of leftovers, which was probably the most exciting part of our meal for Grace.  She was sure her daddy would like all those leftovers.  We spent a little over an hour and half in that booth, most of it talking about food and what things she liked and what things she might like to try next time.  As we were enjoying our Dolcini desserts, our waitress spent a few moments with Grace, asking all the questions you would ask a little girl.  They were having a nice visit on and off through out the meal so it did not surprise me when the waitress would come back every so often to ask Grace about her dish, and was everything tasting good.   "How old are you Grace?"  She would ask.  "I am eight."  Grace would let her know.  The unsuspecting waitress told Grace, "Oh I thought you might be just six, you are so tiny."  Grace sat back at this, and reached up to her head, removing my hockey hat and placing it on the seat next to her.  "I have cancer and I will not live to the end of the summer."  I do not think Grace meant any harm in the revelation, I think she is simply comfortable with the end of her journey approaching fast.  It did not take long for tears to form in our waitress's eyes and Grace was quick to react to them.  "It is OK, we are almost ready.  We are almost finished writing my story.  You can follow my boyfriends blog and read about our time together."   I shook my head at Grace.  "Boyfriend?  Really Dude?"  She smiled at me and then instructed me to get a pen and write down our blog site.  When I was done doing this, she stood up on the booth seat and handed the site address to our waitress.  She stretched her arms out and hugged her and told her 'do not be sad for me, be happy for me.'   It was more then the poor lady could take and she excused herself and walked away.  Before we would leave, Grace would ask another waitress to please tell our waitress to come to our table.  Once she came back, fully recovered and composed, Grace stuck out her hand "It was very nice to meet you today.  Thank you for our meal.  I hope you will read my story someday."  Our waitress smiled, gave Grace a hug, and told her she would be sure to look us up.  Always having to have the last word, Grace smiled back at her and told her "I will see you again someday."  Now, both myself and the waitress knew that Grace was not planning a trip back to the OG, and that her words were solid, and legit, and that someday the two of them would see each other again, in heaven.

With our meal behind us, Grace and I would do a few more fun things together, that she could cross of her bucket list.  We would go to Kristy's house so Kristy's mom could give me a hair cut.  They would ooh and ahh over her wrist corsage and talk about her kicks.  I would offer to have my head shaved to match Gracie, but she would not hear of that.  "Not everyone can pull this off you know."  She would tease me.  We would spend time at Frog Pond, walking around the walks and enjoying some warmer weather of the day.   We would go to BU's campus and I would show Gracie around so she could see where I am during the day when she texts me asking me what I am doing right now.

Grace was getting quieter and quieter as we visited one place then another.  I knew she was tired but I knew she didn't want me to know she was.  She would drag this on until midnight, if I had not told her it was time for her to rest and maybe we can do this again sometime soon, only she could pay and drive.  She smiled quietly and I knew I should get her home.  Once we arrived at her house, and she was resting in her bed as I read her another chapter from Charolett's Web, a book she chose for me to read her based on a pig named Wilbur.  She would stop me after one chapter, and tell me, "I had a lot of fun today, we did a lot of things together."  I would reply, "Yes we did Gracie, and I had a great day with you.  You are a real nice date you know."   She reached out her hand and I took it.  She asked me, "what was your favorite part of our day today Jett?"   I told her very honestly, "my favorite part of this day, I would have to say, is your pink kicks.  You really rocked them girl."  She smiled and squeezed my hand tighter.  "You know what my favorite part of our day was today Jett?"   I squeezed her hand back, "what was it Gracie?"   She closed her eyes and whispered "spending the whole day with you, that was my favorite part of our day."   And she was out like a light, exhausted from the fresh air, the fun, the food, and the pure enjoyment of getting a break from thinking about all she has left to do, and focusing on how much she just did.

I kiss her goodbye and leave her house with mixed emotions on this day.  How can one of the happiest days in your life, be so close to one of the saddest days you'll have in the last five years?

"Do not be sad for me.  Be happy for me."  It wasn't the first time I had heard Grace say those words, and I am sure it will not be the last.   I think about Wilbur and Charlotte's friendship.

To sum it up, Wilbur is deserted by Fern, as she grew older and visited him less and less.  It wasn't long and Wilbur grew lonely until one day he was comforted by a voice telling him 'I will be your friend'.  The only thing wrong with this children's story, is I cannot figure out, which one of us is Wilbur, and which one of us is Charlotte.

I love you Gracie, and even though you have filled up my heart with so much love, and will continue to do so for the days that come, there is still room there for the pain of losing you. 

Amazing Grace XXI: For The Love Of Grace

I missed Grace yesterday and although we decided to take Friday 'off ' from visiting with each other and her dictating more of her story to me, we would text on and off during the morning hours.  It is not something we usually would do, text, but she has been doing it more and more as the days go on.   First thing this morning I got a text "What are you doing right now?"  I text Grace back, "I am on campus, working on a story.  What are you doing right now?"  She would respond to my text, "I am going to eat cereal with my daddy before he goes to work."  I text back that I hoped she was enjoying her breakfast with her daddy and I would text her in a bit.  Being the loving kind angel she is, she text back "Write a good story."

I would not hear from Grace again until after she ate lunch and was getting ready to lay down.  "Do not forget our date tomorrow."  She had text me.  I replied, "I'm thinking about it right now Grace, I will not forget."   She would text me that she was going to watch Footloose, and then she was going to nap and rest real good today so when her cousins came to visit her that evening, she would already be rested and ready for their visit.  I text Grace to please sleep well tonight, so our date tomorrow would be a long date.  "I will.  I pinky swear."  I knew she would be excited for our Saturday afternoon date, but I know I was more excited than she was.

Even though Grace and I would not be blogging on Friday night, I spent the evening sitting with the other Misfits, watching some playoff hockey.  While I did this, I grabbed the journal with Grace's name written down the outside binder of it, full of notebook paper notes, that I knew I needed to begin organizing.  I would sort the notes according to dates, then take those piles and sort them by topic.   By the time I was done sorting my notes, I had several piles laid out around me on the floor.  I would put each pile into its own separate envelope and label each envelope accordingly.  When I stuffed and labeled the last envelope I decided to read through them again.  I opened the envelope labeled 'QUOTES'.  These quotes were some of the things that Grace has said to me over the course of time we had begun to tell her story.  I plan on using these quotes in appropriate places in the book I will write regarding the journey of Grace.  One in particular stuck out in my mind as I sifted through them.

  "I will never go on a date or get to find the boy I would marry someday, had I not gotten invited by God to come home to him."

There are many powerful statements in that quote and I remember writing it down while visiting with Grace that day not so long ago.  I had thought about how at eight years old, do little girls really think that far into the future of being married?  I had thought about how she ever came to think about dates and boys anyway, shouldn't eight year old girls be thinking about their dolls and their fashion?  The most powerful statement for me in this quote was actually her words "had I not gotten invited by God to come home to him".   I do not struggle with my faith in God and his ultimate plan for all of us to rest in peace in heaven while enjoying eternal life with him, but I do struggle with faith in myself.  It was the first time since I met Grace that I began to wonder, has God personally invited Grace to come to him?  Did he ask her?  Did he tell her?  Has she made a connection beyond earth with others who have gone before us?  I told myself, it really does not matter if I believe this could be possible, it only matters that Grace believes if it is.  I will make it a point to continue talking to Grace about life beyond my reach.  I would find a way we could explore this concept together, and try to get confirmation that what she has recently revealed to me about my family in heaven was not a dream to her, but actually a visit to the beyond I longed to know more about.

It would prove to be the toughest assignment I would give myself, but I had questions that Grace possibly is the only one that can answer them for me.  The innocence of her youthfulness will allow her be more receptive to my questions with honest straight forward answers on what she feels, or what she thinks she knows, about communicating with the spirits of those that have gone ahead of us.

When my brother Joey died, I had experienced the very thing that Grace revealed to me a few days ago.  He stayed with me.  I could see him when no one else could.  I could hear him but those around me could not.  I could talk to him and he would respond.  In the toughest moments of my journey when I felt I could not go on, he was there with me, encouraging me to move forward, and keeping me out of harms way.  He was near me, and I could feel him, even though he was just slightly out of my reach.  When my mom had her first small stroke, I felt it was then that I began to lose contact with Joey.  I chalked it up to her needing him near her more than I needed him guiding me.  When she had another stroke and my brother Jordy and I had to make the decision to keep her alive via machines, or let her go, I tried to make a connection with Joey.  I wanted him to give me the OK to let her go, or the OK to keep her alive.  He did not respond to me.  He was gone, I could not find him anywhere.  I searched everywhere I could think of.  I reached deep inside my heart where I have alway been able to find him before.  I opened every door and I looked in every window. I checked my safe place.  I went to church at odd times in hopes to find him waiting there for me.  He was gone.  I no longer felt him near me.

It made me question whether I was dreaming the times I did feel him with me.  My brother Jordy does not believe I could feel Joey with me.  Joey's best friend Mikey does not want to talk to any of us about Joey's death.  My dad made it clear that I can choose to believe what I want to about the afterlife but he does not believe we can communicate with the dead.  After all, his mom died when he was still in high school and she has never made an attempt to be with him.  I have one very dear friend to me that lets me talk about this with her and she supports what I tell her, that Joey was with me, but now he is gone.  I never stopped trying to find Joey, and since I have known Grace, I have felt him comfort me after some very tough visits with her.  I have felt him protect me from myself in this journey with her.  Grace's revelation to me that she "knows Joey you know" has given me knew hope in the fact that not only was I really communicating with him, but that I am slowly finding that he really never left me, and is still guiding me in my journey, not only with Grace, but even when Grace has gone.

Unlike Grace, I cannot say that I am completely unafraid of death.  I have had several family members and friends that have died, from the time my baby sister died to the most recent, my mother, this past year.  There was Widow G who was my oldest friend when I first moved to Boston with my brother, and Joe and Mary, the neighbors east of his house who died within months of each other.  Our good friend Pat's husband who died suddenly last year, as well as a few others along the way.  Not counting my brother Joey, I really felt that I did well in accepting God's plan for all of them, and was able to be at peace as they rested in peace.

I love life and although I do not want to die when my time has arrived, I walk my days on earth preparing for that time.  I will always have room for improvement in several area, and I will always find new ways to be more faithful, less fearful, and show kindness to others despite any differences we may have.  I look at every brick in front of me on this yellow brick road as a test to how well I am accepting God in my life and the role he plays in who I am, and who I am becoming.

On this Friday night, as I sit and work with pages and pages of notes I have taken about Grace and the story she wants told when she moves on, I know this has by far been the biggest challenge for me regarding death.  Not because Grace is young and innocent.  Not because I have gotten access to her innermost feelings regarding friendships.  Not because I will miss her.  No, these are not the reasons that I feel this is my biggest challenge I am facing.  I feel as if I personally am struggling with my faith and God has brought Grace and I together so that I might review my faith, and compare it to Grace's.

Faith is believing in things that cannot be proven.  Faith is an extreme trust that what you feel, but cannot see, exists.  Faith is hope beyond reasoning.  Faith is letting go of the ones you love, not only in death, but in life as well.   Faith is never questioning the past you lived, but believing in the life you still have to live.  Without faith you will never love unconditionally, trust completely, grow continuously.

I believe and trust that God has placed me on the path Gracie walks, so I may increase my faith and come to the realization that I am capable of loving, as well as accept love, unconditionally, while growing spiritually.

“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination, and dedication. Remember all things are possible for those who believe.”

Amazing Grace XX: Sharing Friends

There are so many things still not crossed off Grace's hand written bucket lists it is never hard to think of something I can do to help her experience one more thing before her time runs out.  Today I would bypass the items on that list and focus on her "People To Meet" list.  Like all her lists, the lines on that page grew quickly with each story I shared with her regarding my daily life.  She was always asking me to share a story with her, often detailing what part of my life to share at any given time.  Through these stories she created a list of people in my life that she wanted to be introduced to.   Over spring break she was able to visit me in my home for an evening on a Saturday.  It was that visit that knocked out six of them, all in one night.

She met Tommy, who I've know for four years, through mutual friends in the hockey world.   George is another friend I've know for almost four years, and I actually met him through Tommy's brother.  Both great friends to me, in different capacities.  Zander and Charlie live with me and my dad, not blood brothers, but like my dad, DNA could not provide a better match of brothers to me.  My nephew was also present, Jimmy, who will tell you that his first name is Little and his second name is Dude.  Near the end of her visit this night, she would meet Brooke, my sister in law and Kat, Mikey's wife.  Brooke's daughter Olivia would be with them when they came by to pick up Little Dude.  Grace had met Little Dude and Olivia prior to this night.  She was excited on the following Wednesday's visit to show me all the names she was able to cross off her list.  When my dad went to visit with her not that long ago, it was one more name crossed off.

Grace was always asking me when she would get to meet Kristy.  It's not that I intentionally kept them apart, it was hard to coordinate, and to be frank about it, I was wanting more and more of Grace to myself.  Thinking about her list of people I thought it might be nice to see if Kristy would be able to come along with me today when I visited Grace.  I barely got the question out before she was screaming with excitement and telling me it was about time.

Kristy and I stood on Grace's front porch and I felt a bit nervous, as if I was taking Kristy home for the first time to meet my family.  Maybe even more nervous, because standing next to me, and right inside the door in front of me, were two of the few females in my life that had total control over my heart.  Both were sassy. Both were bossy.  Both were controlling.  One wanted so bad to be a dancer in life, but there just was not time.  The other was a dancer, and in fact, taught girls Grace's age and younger to dance.  I can tell you with a great deal of confidence that the nerves I was feeling was related to not how they would get along with each other, but how they would share stories of Grace's favorite topic ... ME.

We were greeted into Grace's home by her mother.  I had called earlier and ask if it would be OK to bring my friend Kristy to visit Grace today.  She had no problem with that at all.  I invited her to get out of the house for a couple hours when we get there, and just take a mental break from the time and care she dedicated to Grace.  She was very excited to get that offer, and after she let us in, she thanked me more than once for letting her get a way and run some errands.  I assured her we would take great care of Grace, and she should take as much time as she wanted, or needed.

Grace was sitting in the family room, playing with Linda, Jenny, and (eye's rolling) George, her barbie family.  "Grace, guess who I brought with me today to visit with us?"  She looked up from where she was sitting, and seeing Kristy standing there she stood up and stood still as if she were frozen in time.  Tears formed in Graces eyes.  "What is wrong Grace?"  I asked her.  Without a word she turned and disappeared into her room.  Kristy grabbed my arm, "Maybe I should go Jett, she seems like she is not comfortable with me here."  I tell her to give me a minute and I go to Grace's room.  She has shut the door so I knock and ask if I can come in.  "Is she with you?"  She asks me.  "No Grace, I am alone."   She opens her door a sliver and peeks out.  When she sees I am alone, she invites me in and closes the door.  "Grace, what is wrong?  I thought you would be happy to meet Kristy today."   She goes and sit on her bed, tears still in her eyes.  "She is very pretty Jett.  I am not so pretty."  I sit on her bed next to her.  "Grace, you know everyone is beautiful in different ways.  I have told you many times I think you are beautiful to me, inside and out."

"Her hair is so pretty Jett.  And she is just so pretty.  I did not think she would be so pretty.  I felt ugly when I saw her.  I used to have pretty hair and look at me now."  This is a total girl thing isn't it, I ask myself.  "Kristy is beautiful", I tell Grace, "and if you just get to know her just a little bit today, you will see she is beautiful inside too.  But she is not anymore beautiful to my eyes then you are to me."  I wipe her tears from her cheeks, and rub my hand along the top of her head.  "If you are more comfortable, you can put one of your lids on.  Would you like to do that?"   She gets up and opens a dresser drawer, pulls out a knit pink hat, and puts it on.  "You look beautiful Gracie, do you feel better?"   She touches the hat she has put on her head.  "Yes.  I think I will be OK."   I grab my little angels tiny hand and we go back out to find Kristy sitting waiting for our return.

"Kristy, this is Grace.  Grace, this is Kristy."  Grace stays close to me, as if she is fearful to get to close to Kristy.  Kristy stands up to come over and shake hands with Grace.  "I've been excited to meet you Grace, Jett tells me so many fun things about you."  Grace shakes Kristy's hand and moves a little closer to me.  Kristy will break the ice by using Grace's barbie family.  "I love barbies.  When I was your age my cousin and I used to play for hours, dressing them in their pretty dresses and dreaming of being them."  Before long my girls are sitting on the floor, looking at all the barbie clothes and talking fashion.  I sit in a chair near them and just watch and listen to them, sharing their love of barbie dolls.

A half hour later, they are still in barbie land.  I stretched back in the recliner, close my eyes, and listened to them talk about barbies, fashion, clothes, and the color pink.   I hear them giggle and can almost see the smiles on their faces even though my eyes were closed.  They seemed comfortable together and were talking like they had known each other for longer than the hour that had passed. I hear them talking about the necklace Kristy had on and how Grace has "never seen such a sparkly necklace" before.  Grace was asking Kristy many questions and soon she was talking to Kristy about how she wished she had a sister like her.  How she knows if she had a big sister she would be just as nice and just as pretty as Kristy was.  I heard Kristy talk to Grace about how she always wanted to have a sister, but only had two brothers.

I heard Kristy say to Grace, "I am sorry I made you cry Grace, we should of asked you if you would like to meet me."   There is a pause, and even without looking at Grace, I know she is choosing her words carefully.  "You are prettier than I am and it makes me sad.  Now I know why Jett wants to marry you someday."  I cringe, that is one of the things I didn't want my little sister angel to share with the girl that is not my girlfriend anymore.  "It made me nervous when I saw how pretty you are.  I wonder if I was going to be pretty when I was old enough to date."  She finishes.

"To be truthful to you Grace, I have been nervous about meeting you too.  Jett loves you so much so I knew you were going to be a very nice funny person.  He calls you his pretty girl when he talks to me about you.  He told me you have the prettiest eyes ever, because of how they shine and put a sparkle in the room."   Grace tells Kristy, "I love Jett too.  And we have lots of secrets together about you."

The talk turned to whispers, and I knew my girls were up to something. I opened my eyes and when I looked at them, Grace was wearing Kristy's necklace, Kristy was wearing Grace's pink knit hat, and they were hugging pinkies.

"What are you pinky swearing to?  Are you keeping secrets from me?"  I asked.  They giggle and looked at me, then each other.  Kristy put her finger up to her lips and shhh'ed Grace as if to tell her 'he does not need to know our secrets'. 

It had been over an hour and I tell Grace we should go and write some more of her story.  She tells Kristy it is OK for her to stay and play with her barbies while her and I get to work.  I grab my backpack and we head to Grace's room, where she will lay back and dictate more of her story to me, and more than likely ask me questions about Kristy.

"I like her", she tells me, "I think she will say yes when you ask her to marry you someday."  Grace begins to dictate to me more of the story she would like told.  "I would like our blog friends to know that it does not hurt me Jett."  I stop writing and I look at her.  "What does not hurt you Grace?"  I asked.  I was preparing myself for Grace to describe to me more about her cancer and the treatments.  I would be surprised at what she said to me next.  "My heart.  It does not hurt.  When people stare at me, it does not hurt me.  I am not mad with anyone that I am dying.  I do not think my mommy and my daddy meant that this would happen.  I do not think anyone is trying to hurt me."  I tell her "You are a brave child of God Grace, and I have learned so much from you these past few months."

Grace scoots over to one side of her bed and offers me the other.  We lay on our backs and look up at the ceiling.  This tells me a couple things.  First, she is getting tired and is preparing herself for rest.  Second, she is 'off the record' as far as telling her story.  "I dream about heaven you know."  She says matter of fact.  "But I am not sure they are really dreams.  When I wake up, I feel like I went on a visit.  Do you believe me Jett?  That I go to heaven when I sleep?"  This is a tough conversation for me to have.  "I believe you Grace.  I believe that heaven is not so far away from us that we cannot visit and that our loved ones already there can come visit us as here."  Grace turns and looks at me.  "I know Joey you know.  I have visited with Joey.  I even met your mommy.  Your other brother and your baby sister are with her."  I cannot even look her in the eyes.  I close my eyes and hear her words again.  I have never told Gracie about losing another brother and my baby sister.  My dad must of told her, I tell myself.  Maybe when she visited my house she read it in one of my journals.  "They do not talk to me like Joey does.  Joey is closer to us on earth then the rest of your family."  I squeeze my closed eyes tighter, as if that will prevent her words from seeping through inside of me.  She does not stop.  "He wishes you were not so angry at your mommy for going to be with God.  Jett, you will not be angry with me right?  I do not want you to be sad or mad."  My mind is going off like a box of bottle rockets.  How does she knows these things?  "It is like we are trading mommy's Jett.  When I get to heaven I will be with your mommy.  You have to visit my mommy here, like she is your mommy.  She is going to need you, you know."  I just have no words.  I cannot utter a sound.  I lay there, with my eyes closed, my mind racing for reasoning of how this can be.

I can feel Grace move and I suddenly feel her sitting on my stomach.  I feel her tiny hands on my face.  "Open your eyes Jett, I know you can hear me."  As soon as I open them, I can feel them fill up with tears.  We have had endless conversations about Joey.  Grace knows I miss him and I cannot let him go.  I keep him here on earth with me, where I feel he belongs.  I have entire conversations with him when I need someone to talk to.  I cry endless tears at times begging him to come back.  I tell him I am afraid I am not making the right decisions to carry me through life.  I tell him I am afraid that someday I will be left alone on earth and everyone I love will be in heaven.  There will be no one left on earth with me and I will walk in darkness, aimlessly with no direction.   He knows I am afraid that I will fail God's test and not be allowed to move on without more heartaches and pain on earth.  It is easier for me to feel better about my journey with Joey here with me.

"Jett? Please do not be sad.  It is happy that I visit heaven so when I get there I know what it is like."  "I know it is Gracie, and I am only sad that I will miss you greatly.  I am a little jealous that you got chosen you know.  But I am happy that Joey is going to be there for you."

I read our blog to her and told her about a very nice woman who contacted me regarding our blogs and how she was questioning herself on some decisions she made in her life that left her feeling lonely and unsure of things in her future.  I told Grace how she was keeping up with our blogs and was impressed with the courage that she had in what she was facing.  "Do you think we helped her?, she asked.  "Yes Grace, I think we helped her see she is on the right path."  Grace was quick to respond, "That is good then.  I will say a prayer for her and her sons tonight."  

Grace tells me she is tried, and if I am going to be OK she would like to rest.  She thanked me for bringing Kristy with me, and being her bossy self has instructed me to REALLY REALLY marry her someday.  I get Kristy so they can say goodbye.  I was happy they worked it out and that Grace can cross Kristy off her people to meet list finally.  Grace asks Kristy if she would like her necklace back now.  "You can wear for a while", she tells her.  "Do you want your knit hat back?"   Grace holds out her hand. "Yes I would."  It makes me smile, I like her spunk.  I look at her as she takes the hat from Kristy.  I take note of the way they look at each other and smile.  If Gracie is pinkie swearing with you, you are 'in'. 

We say our goodbyes and just when I am walking out of her bedroom for the drive home I hear her say. ''It's true you know.  You need to believe me."   I turn to look at her and let her know I do believe her, and I have always believed that angels walk amongst us.  She is laying back, her eyes closed, one hand holding the necklace around her neck, the other clutching her pink knit hat.  "I believe", I say, as I turn to leave.

I sit here now, and I am a bit relieved that Grace and I will take the day off tomorrow.  Not that I won't miss her, but I would like some time to process her revelations to me today.  They are having a family gathering at their house tomorrow, where some of her cousins will be able to visit with her.  We agree to our date on Saturday to be an afternoon date, and for sure she would like to go to a nice restaurant.  If things go well, she would like to go to the mall and just look at everything going on there. 

Grace is going on a date.  I was hoping she would get to cross that one off her bucket list.

Amazing Grace XIX: Singing With Grace

I brought along my guitar today when I went to visit Grace at her home.  When I checked in with her mother prior to the visit, her mom told me that Grace was having a very blue day.  It was cold and dreary out, and the rain was just an annoying mist all day long.  If there were any sunshine at all, it was hidden deep behind the clouds that seemed to loom over the neighborhoods today.  I decided to grab my guitar and see if that might cheer my angel up a bit.  So I grabbed my git-box, hopped in my ride, and headed for the end of the rainbow.

Something you should know about Grace and I, is we spend a lot of time talking about God and his love for us.  I read passages out of the bible to her and then we talk about what each of us thinks the lesson is about.  With neither of us having any formal training in the history of religion, we both have many questions on the story of Jesus and his journey through biblical times.  I have always found it easier to explain things to people by using modern technology to provide examples of how things relate to our daily lives.  With Grace I have always used music and lyrics to help her see the messages of the world.

I have introduced Grace to Christian music because I felt many of the songs in that genre related to how Grace felt about her time on earth, and her journey to heaven.  For being eight, she had great insight to all that was good, and I felt she honestly had a better grip on all that was bad then anyone I could name, including myself.  She is driven by the lessons in life that lead to happiness and beauty.  She can take the clouds of a dreary day and push them aside so she can see the rainbow.  I always told her she is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, even if her rainbow contained the colors neon pink and lime green.

Today I found her laying in her room, on her bed, and covered up tight with winter heavy blankets.  It was in the 50's today, and even on the days it is in the 70s, Grace is cold.  She was watching the newest version of Footloose that I had given her yesterday.  She sees me with my guitar and turns off her movie as she greets me with a big smile and a tiny small half wave.  "You are Glummy Gus today Dude." I tell her.  "I know Jett, I wanted to be a Happy Harriet but I just have many things I am thinking about today."  She tells me as she sits up on her bed, still heavily covered up to stay snug and warm.

I sit in a chair that has been placed next to her bed recently, no doubt to give a seat to one of her parents as they read to her, or watch TV with her, or just sit and watch her sleep.  "I have a song I want to sing to you today Grace, and talk about the lyrics.  It is a song about God and how he is with us always. In fact, it is titled  HE IS WITH YOU."   "Do I know the singer?"  She asked me as if she was trying to place the song.  "No", I tell her, "we have not ever listened to this singer before.  She is a Gospel singer. Her name is Mandisa."  She sits a bit taller in her bed.  "Sing it to me Jett."  I sing the song to her, and when I am done, I take out my notebook with the lyrics written on a page in it.  We read the lyrics together, once, then again.  She has me sing them to her again.  Then she wants me to play while she sings the words.  She rips the page out of my notebook and carefully folds it and puts it under her pillow.  "I like Mandisa", she tells me, "she tells that song good.  Thank you for sharing her with me today."

We mess around a bit more with me playing the guitar and Grace singing like a super star.   A couple hours have passed and Grace feels like she needs to rest so she can spend some time with her parents tonight.  "We are going to watch Footloose again, and have pizza and milk."  I tell her I am happy she likes the movies, and purposely fail to mention how glad I am that I am not in her father shoes.  I have a five year old nephew who is on his third copy of How to Train a Dragon with no end in sight.  We have seen it countless times and we all know it by heart.  It is time for me to go and we say our goodbyes.  "I will see you tomorrow Happy Harriet, we will plan our date out for this weekend."  I head out the door and when I am about four steps away I hear her TV go on and the music to Footloose begins.  Great, now I have the theme song churning in my head.  All the way home I am singing it but as annoying as it is to have a song stuck in your head, I can't help but smile.  We made a new memory and for the rest of my life when I hear that song, or watch that movie, I will forever remember the 110 minutes of silence, laying on the sofa with Grace, watching that movie together.  It was worth it, and I would do it all over again.

Grace and I would like to share Mandisa's song with our reader friends.  Copy and past this link and listen to 'He Is With You'.   I invite you to go through your day tomorrow, and when you lose a bit of faith along the way due to a struggle you face, remember ... He Is With You.

(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6hnmFbnGc4&feature=fvsr)

Amazing Grace XVIII: A Bucket List Visit

I was excited for the afternoon to get here, so I could go visit more with Grace today.  My morning started out a bit gloomy, as I tossed and turned last night after finishing my blog from yesterday's visit.  It proved to be tougher than I thought it would be, and I was left laying in bed wondering if I could actually continue on with helping Grace tell the story of her journey. 

In the past few months we have spent countless hours writing her story, with a clear separation of the story she is telling the world of her life while alive, and the one she wants me to tell once she has died.  What started out to be an aspiring journalist searching for a human interest story turned into a bond between him and his subject that would prove to be stronger than either of them had anticipated.   The ground was laid pretty solid from the first time we met and I conducted our first 'interview' that this was business.  Grace would call the shots, and I would tell the story.  It seemed pretty cut and dry that day, that this would be a story that touched people's hearts about a young girl who had fallen victim to cancer.   The story would be written by two, read by many, and I would be in and out of this assignment and onto the next once this story had been told.

Little did I know that a few months after beginning this journey, I would find myself connected to the life of Grace in such a dynamic fashion.  I never imagined that today I would be feeling both the excitement of being on my way to visit my little friend and the sadness of the realization that I am one day closer to the end of my journey with her.  I will miss the hours of laughs, the hours of tears, and the hours of silence we have shared together.  I will miss her sassy bossy attitude and the times she has backed me into a corner regarding my attitude.  I will treasure forever our talks about religion and the capacity of faith and courage she has shown me I am capable of obtaining.  I will miss the hours she has spent, filling my heart with love of life, hers, mine, and everyone's I meet.

Now that the months have turned into weeks and weeks are fast becoming days, we both find ourselves anxious about the time we have left together.   Grace wanting to put the finishing touches on her end of the story we are writing, and me wanting to provide Grace with all the things she has added to her bucket lists of things to accomplish before she trades in her life on earth, for an eternal life beyond.  We have pinky swore to so many promises to each other, that that alone will take up a whole chapter in the story of her life.  As will the lists she has created to share with us her wants, and can not haves, the accomplishments she has made, and those she wishes to, but time will not allow for them to be completed.

I find myself on her front porch today, excited to spend a few hours with her.  I am armed with a box under my left arm, and a gift bag in my right hand.  I had already left instructions for her to be well rested, because today she would need her strength to make it to the end of our visit.  When I enter her house, she is standing in the doorway between the entryway, and the family room.  "You are late Jett, and you know that I am not happy when people are late."  She tries to be bossy with me, but I can see the smile trying to peek out behind her frown.  "I am sorry Grace, but I had to find the perfect bag for your gift."   She folds her arms in front of her as if to prove the point that she is not happy with my answer.  "Did you bring me more jelly doughnuts?  Seven of them?"  Buttons, she finds them, then she pushes them.  I put myself in a stance to let her know, RUN, because I am going to get you for that.  I hear a little girl scream as she darts off and I take chase, running from room to room 'trying' to catch her.  I stop, so she will, and I ask her if she would like to see the gift I brought for her today.  "What is it?" She asks.  I hand her the gift bag, bright neon pink, because that is her favorite color of the rainbow.   We already had that argument and I will tell you, she won.  I tried to tell her pink is not a color of the rainbow and she responded with "it is in my rainbow".

She opens the bag and pulls out two movies.  Footloose the original, and Footloose the modern version.  She drops them on the floor and screams, as she comes running at me.  "You are the best friend EVER!"  I get a huge baby bear hug, one I return, keeping in mind that baby bear hugs are all I can give back, because a papa bear hug might break her.  It brings a huge smile to my face, I did it, I thought to myself.  We had talked about movies briefly, because Grace has not seen a lot of movies outside the barbie world.  The title of this movie came up a few weeks ago in a conversation we had regarding dancing.  We talked several times about how she will dance in heaven, even though she cannot dance here on earth.  I told her the story behind the movie of Footloose and how they used the bible to try to convince their parents in the movie that dancing is good.  Dancing is a celebration of life, and in the bible we should celebrate life. 

I took the blue-ray player out of its box and hooked it up to their flat screen.  As I was doing this we talked about the movie and she asked me if I had seen it.  I told her about how before my friend Kristy and I decided to be friends instead of boyfriend and girlfriend, she had gotten mad with me because I had no desire to see this movie.  It was a girly movie I tried to explain to Kristy, and she tried to explain to me that she wanted to rent it and since we were dating, I was obligated to see it, after all, she did not like hockey but would come and watch my games.  I found it adorable and endearing how when I would tell Grace stories about my life, she would glue her eyes to me, and listen intently to each word I spoke.  I always felt that she was trying to look into a future she would never have, and get a feel for what she would be missing out on.

We would watch the old Footloose movie first, it was declared, because that is the one I had already seen, and Grace wanted us to watch the new version together, after both of us having seen the older version.  We watched the first one as we laid together on the sofa, Grace at one end, and me at the other, covered up with her Disney Princess blanket.  I kept an eye on Grace, to make sure if she fell asleep I could stop the movie, but with the amount of intense concentration she had on it as it played, I knew she would not be drifting off so easily.  We watched the entire length of this movie in silence, all 110 minutes of it.  I liked that we were comfortable enough with each other to do this. 

"What did you think of the movie Gracie?"  I asked as we sat up on the sofa next to each other.  "I like it lots Jett.  I like how much happiness Ariel let herself have, even though her brother died."  I agreed with her.  "Did you like watching it again Jett?"  She asked.  "I like Ren in this movie, he never gave up, when he easily could have."  We talked about the movie a bit more and how much Grace liked the fun dances.  "I like them cowgirl boots those girls wore Jett.  I should put them on my list of things I wanted but will not have."  I look at those tiny feet next to me sticking straight out from the sofa with the pink fuzzy slippers on them.  "Dude, your slippers rock harder than those cowgirl kicks."  I tell her.  Grace looks at me with that face I get when she thinks I'm being stupid.  "Dude?  I am a girl, not a dude.  Kicks?  They are boots not kicks.  Just like your name, you talk funny."  She tells me.  I just smile because she has made it a study to learn more about the language I use that often has to be explained to her what I am talking about.  "OK, I like you called them kicks, and I like you call my hats lids.  But seriously?  Dude?"

Grace's mom has made us PBJ sandwiches and poured us milk.  We sit at the kitchen table and eat together.  "Would you like my mommy to make you six more sandwiches Dude?"  She says this with a big grin on her face.   I just ignore her, which sends her into giggles.  "Tell me a story about Kristy that is not your girlfriend Jett."   Grace has not yet met Kristy but she is on her list of my peeps she would like to meet.  Truth be known, I am petrified to introduce them.   Who knows what stories they will tell each other, and some of them might include things I've told Grace, in little sister fashion, that she might repeat to Kristy.  I share with her the story of how we went to school together, and how we often ate lunch together and how I was afraid to ask her out, because I didn't think she would say yes.  "You are silly Jett, if I were Kristy I would say yes to a date with you."  Fine, I thought, I think I'll test this statement out.  "Grace?  Would you like to go out on a date night with me?  Just the two of us?  Dinner and maybe we could go see a movie?"

She just sits there, finishing her sandwich and milk.  I get no answer what so ever.  We clear the table and Grace said she is tired, and I should read our blog to her from yesterday, and talk about someone that is following her journey with us.  She lays on her bed as I read our blog out loud to her.  I talk to her about someone new who is reading our blogs.  She is tired and I can see her eyes getting sleepier and sleepier.  After a few more instructions from Gracie, I kiss her goodbye and head for the door.  "Jett", she stops me.  "Yes Dude?"  She rolls those pretty little tired eyes at me.  "Yes. I would like to go on a real date with you."  I smile at Grace and tell her I am happy she decided to say yes.  We will plan it for this weekend, and talk more about it tomorrow.  She gives me a little half wave with that little hand that will never get any bigger and closes her eyes.  I go get her movies and take them to her and lay them next to her as she sleeps.  I hope she dreams about the music and dancing she loved so much in these movies.

As I head home I make a mental note to call Kristy, and tell her I watched Footloose with another girl.  And I am sorry that I grumped about it so badly when she wanted to watch it together.  I told her how that movie had gotten me a date with my little Gracie.  Had I known how happy it would make a girl to watch that movie with her before today, I would have offered to rent it for her before she even mentioned it to me. 

A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
(Ecclesiastes 3:4)

Amazing Grace XVII: "Do Not Be Sad For Me"

Starting today, my visits to Grace will be almost on a daily basis, and until she becomes dependent on machines and morphine to make her final days more comfortable for her until she surrenders to her battle with brain cancer, will take place at her home.  The visits will be very different for me, as I will have little time to prepare for them like I have become accustom to on our weekly visits on Wednesdays.

Wednesdays are the one day of the week that I have no classes, and I am not interning at a local grade school, teaching third and fourth grade students the art of the English language.  It's a gig that occupies my time from 1pm to 3pm on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays.   The hard part of this new visiting schedule will be spending two hours with kids Grace's age, who are very much alive and well.  I enjoy these two hours of my day, observing the students at their very best, and sometimes their very worse.   Thirty-seven students in all, between the two classes, and all of them lead a very different life than my little Gracie.

Grace would be in the third grade, if she were able to attend classes.   At times I find myself watching my students, wondering about all that Grace has missed out on by fighting her battle with her disease.   It is something Grace and I talk about a lot, where would she be today, if she were leading the normal life of a healthy eight year old.   I assure her she is just as smart as my students, not only book smart, but street smart too.  Grace may not be able to pull a noun out of a sentence, or insert an adjective on a moments notice, but she has a lot of knowledge about things most eight year old's may never experience in their lifetimes.

I know I have to visit Grace as often as I can, because our time is being limited by mere weeks, if not days.  My only option at this time, is to do it after I am done with my students for the day.  It is about a 20 minute drive from the school to Grace's house, not near enough time to come to grips with leaving an environment where kids are busy learning their studies, but also building friendship verses spending time in Grace's environment, documenting her final days.  Friendships are one of the things Grace has struggled with since she was no longer able to attend classes.   The few friendship she did make in her short time attending school, have since faded away.  Her friendships now are limited to other children with cancer, that go to the cancer center for treatments.  Each time I visited her at the center, she would update me on the progress of the other children.   She would tell me about this one or that one, that she no longer sees.  How she questions the nurses about their whereabouts, and gets no answers.  "I know though Jett, that I will see them soon."  She would tell me.  She doesn't have to speak the words to me for me understand that she is saying she will see them in heaven, because they have lost their final battle.

I am not uncomfortable going to Grace's house to spend time with her.  I have been here a few times before, and I know the layout well.  She is an only child, yet her possessions are few.  It's not like her parents can not, or will not, give her all the things she wants.   She has told me before that shortly after her parents told her that she would not survive what she is going through, she gave almost all of her things away.  "Why did you to that Grace? Why would you give away the things that are yours?"  I asked this because I really did not understand why she would possibly feel the need to do this.   "The less things I have now, the less things my mommy and daddy will have to figure out what to do with."  She is so matter of fact in this response, it almost makes me feel bad for owning anything at all, because someday, everything we have will no longer matter.

Grace is pretty spunky today, and tells me when I see her that today is a happy day for her.  "Why?"  I ask.  "Today is the first Monday in almost a whole year that I do not have to be at the center."  I wondered if she realized that I, and I am sure her parents, were not looking at this the same way she was.  Her deciding she was done with the chemo and radiation treatments to shrink her tumors, meant her doctors would be able to put a time frame on her time on earth.  When I do not show signs of glee for her reasoning on this being a happy day, she is quick to scold me.  "We knew this Jett" , she says to me, "do not be sad for me."  She almost seemed upset with me, but I know she understands this is not easy for anyone.

I had stopped on the way and picked up a jelly doughnut with frosting for Grace.  She had not ever had a jelly doughnut before that she could remember and it was written on one of her bucket lists.  Today she would get to cross it off.   We sit in her kitchen and I put her doughnut on a plate and pour her a glass of milk.  I sit across from Grace, and she stares at her treat.  "This does not look like a doughnut Jett.  Where is the jelly?" She asks.  "It's called a jelly roll, but it is a form of doughnut.  The jelly is inside the doughnut Grace.  When you take a bite into it, you will see what is in the center of it."  She studies the doughnut.  "Tell me a story about your favorite doughnut Jett."  I like that I am able to offer her things to cross off her bucket list, and I like that I can amuse her with my stories.

I try to impress her with the Misfits doughnut craze.  How on occasion we have doughnuts for breakfast.  How my dad will run in the mornings and sometimes on the weekends will bring home a couple dozen doughnuts, all shapes and sizes.  I told her how I hold the record for the most doughnuts and glasses of milk drank in one setting.  "How many did you eat?"  She asks me.  "Well, I ate seven doughnuts and had 3 glasses of milk."  I tell her.   She has just taken a bite of her jelly doughnut and stops and stares at me with her mouth open and her doughnut hanging midair between her mouth and her plate.  Her eyes are opened wide and she slowly chews the bite she has taken.  "Did they all have jelly in the middles of them?"  She asks, as if that would make me holding the Misfits house record more appealing.  "No, not all of them did, some of them had white cream frosting in the middle."  I smile inside as I watch her stare at me like I just told her she won the lottery.  She swallows the bite of doughnut she has been chewing, looks me in the eyes, and says, "that is just amazing to me."

She has me retrieve the bag she packs when she goes to get her treatments that contain her notebooks.  She pulls out her notebook of lists, and uncaps her pen, crossing off  "jelly doughnut" from the list of foods she has yet to eat.  She puts her things back in her bag and finishes her milk.  "What would you like to do next today Grace?"  I ask.  She ponders this question for a few seconds and says "We need to talk Jett."   My heart sinks a little, because I can tell by her tone she is going to prepare me for something regarding her newly aquired time frame.  "We need to visit every day Jett, or we will run out of time for me to tell you my story.  Do you pinky swear you will come to me everyday?"  It is more of an order than anything else.  "I will do my best Grace, but you have to be honest about the rest you need.  It is important to me that you do not push your need for sleep aside."  If you pinky swear me on that, I will pinky swear you back."  We hug pinky's and the bond is sealed.

She is tired now, but she wants to dictate more of her story to me.  We decided that she will lay on the sofa, and I will sit on the floor with my back resting against the sofa, as she tells me what she wants everyone to know when she is gone.   She talks, and I write.  Every few sentences she asks me to read her what I have written.  This is another one of our routines when we visit.  Today I tease her and when I read back her words, I add in "and my friend Jett is the most handsome boy I know".   She giggles, and continues to dictate to me, adding her own little sentence "and if I could marry anyone in the world right now, I would marry ... I would marry ... I would marry George."   I turn and smile at my little angel, and remind her "George doesn't even know how to drive.  He would be a horrible husband."  She laughs, because she knows I want to be the boy she wants to marry.  We finish writing for the day.  Grace is getting sleepy  and I cover her up with a blanket and sit back down resting against the sofa.  I feel Grace's tiny hand in my hair, and she tells me it is too long, and I should get it cut.  Could she go with me when I get it cut?   I assure her that we can arrange that and she reminds me, we should do it soon, before she has to check into the hospital.  She continues to run her fingers through my hair and I just let my mind absorb the feeling, because I want to remember this moment when it is long gone and cannot be duplicated.  As she talks to me I can hear her voice dragging a bit, getting close to falling asleep.  It turns into whispers as she thanks me for the 'very yummy' jelly doughnut today.   I ask her if she would like me to take her to her own bed, where she might be able to rest more comfortably.  "I would like that please", she says.  I pick her up and carry her into her room and put her on her bed.  I cover her up and tell her I will be back tomorrow, and I will have a surprise for her, so she should make sure she gets plenty of rest so she is feeling her best.  I get that tired smile she gives with her eyes half closed.  I lean down to kiss this tiny sweet angels cheek.  She whispers to me, "Jett?"  "Yes Grace?"  I respond.  "I wish you could come with me."   I grab her tiny hand and hold it with my adult size hand.  I remember the visit where Grace grabs my hand and states that "neither one of our hands will ever get any bigger".   I close my eyes and feel our hands together.  Another memory that someday I will not be able to duplicate?  Or the thought of maybe if I hang on to this tiny hand I will somehow go with her as she wishes?  "Do not be sad for me", she whispers, as she drifts off to sleep.

I leave for today with thoughts of returning again tomorrow and the surprise I will have for Grace.  I whisper as I drive away, "I'm not sad for you Gracie, I am sad for me."

Amazing Grace XVI: Strength And Courage in Grace

Yesterday I met a very inspiring woman from Florida who found me through the blogs I have been writing about Grace.  Pastor Jill contacted me via email after visiting my blog site given to her by a Pastor friend of hers from Texas.  I was not surprised by the distance the blogs have reached, as I have been hearing from different people across the country regarding my site.  Each week when I visit Grace, we not only go over the prior weeks published blog, we go through the list of followers, the comments from many of them, and the emails and messages sent to me regarding the strength and courage of not only Grace during this difficult time, but mine as well.

Grace and I have had many conversations about the strength and courage others see in her and myself.  Often she tells me that much of her courage has been coming from others who find strength in her journey.  I can tell you without a doubt that my strength and courage come from many sources in my life on a daily basis.  I will remind everyone reading this, that this is not about my journey, although it is incorporated into Grace's.  On the days that I blog and publish about our visits together, I also match that blog with one of my own that I do not publish. 

Pastor Jill asked me if she could come to Boston and meet with me, regarding my faith.  After a lot of hesitation and some speculation, I agree to this visit.  We decided on this past weekend, to accommodate her schedule as well as my own.  I was nervous and antsy the Friday evening before our meeting.  I did not sleep well, tossing and turning, nervous as to what she could possibly find so interesting about me and my blog site that she would fly here from Florida.  It seems there are more and more people who do not know me on any level that are trying to wedge in next to me.  A poor night of sleep and a confused mind Saturday morning, anticipating a visit from a Pastor from 22 hours south of me, had me edgy.  This was the perfect recipe for me to lash out at my dad, more out of my own frustration with my life, than anything he could of possibly upset me about.

As most of you know, my dad is Jake and he may not of planted the seed to grow me, but he has since provided the water and love and care and nurturing to get me where I am today.  He IS my dad, and I would argue with the highest being possible if that were ever to be challenged.  Every couple of months I confront him with my pent up angry attitude that really has very little to do with how I feel about him, and more of how I feel about myself.  Like this Saturday morning, he takes it in stride.  He throws a few comments my way to get me fired up and then allows me to lash out on him about all the things I can think of.  Just when I think I've lashed out all I can, he throws out yet another comment to get me boiling.  He never insults me, he never complains about what he finds himself doing to keep me going, he never makes me feel any worse in our yelling contest than I did walking into it.  He absorbs all my insults, all my whining and all my anger.  When I am done throwing my tantrum, he punches me in the arm, hugs me, tells me he loves me, and asks if I am done being a Nancy for the day.  I hug him back, tell him a love him, and thank him for the life he has given me.  We go about our day as if nothing had taken place.  I am in a better frame of mind and he has once again, proven, you don't have to donate the DNA to be a dad.

I had an hour and half before I was going to need to be at Logan airport to pick up Pastor Jill.  I decided to go skate, and burn up some unwanted energy that was sure to leave me in a more calm, relaxed, state of mind.  I arrive early at the airport and anxiously anticipate the arrival of Pastor Jill.   Upon our introduction to each other, I feel much better about this woman who has been persistent in coming to meet someone she does not know anymore about than what she has read about him, written in his very own words.   A three hour flight and a 30 minute drive later and we were walking into my house.  I knew my dad would be waiting there, to make sure all had gone well with the meeting between Pastor Jill and myself.   The three of us visited briefly before my dad went about his house chores and Pastor Jill and I sat down at our dining room table.

She had her overnight bag and her brief case, which seemed more like a file cabinet to me, with its thickness and depth.  As we sat and visited, she would pull more and more books from her brief case, which seemed to be bottomless.  Between my books and journals, and her books and journals, we covered the table almost to completion, leaving room for her coffee and my water bottle.   Minutes turned into hours as we compared our religious beliefs and the faith we devoted to the same God.   She wanted to visit about my blogs with Grace, and a few others she has read that I had written.  She was amazed at the four dozen plus journals I have written in dating back to the very first day I arrived in Boston.  All hand written in the old fashion way.  She comments about the rarity of that these days with all the technology available that would certainly give me more time in my life for other adventures.  I hand her my journal that one day will turn into the story of the journey of Grace's life after she has passed.   She is surprised there are no words hand written on the pages, but several papers stuffed into it that contain written notes I have gathered from my visits with Grace.  I explain to her that Grace and I have agreed, while she still breaths the air on earth, I will focus on her life with us, and once she exhales her final breath with us, I will focus on her life after she is gone.

Talking about Grace has gotten to Pastor Jill.  She asks if she might be able to meet Grace, and visit with her.  I expected this, and I had prepared my answer ahead of time.  No, I would tell her.  I am protective of Grace and her family and their wishes are to retain their privacy outside those directly involved with little Grace's life and medical journey.  It is the same response I have given anyone that asks, that is not on the list of people Grace would like to meet.  But I could not speak that response to Pastor Jill.  Instead I respond that I will call Graces parents and see if Grace would like a visitor today.  I excuse myself to make the call, and while I do this Pastor Jill takes a break from the table and ventures into the living area of our home.   When I return to find her sitting down visiting with my dad, I let her know that Grace would love to meet her today.  I sit with them briefly before we leave.  The remainder of their conversation is regarding how different religions plays in the roles of all four of us that live under the same roof.  We accept that in each other and we respect each others views in our beliefs.  She finds this interesting, I could see it before she even commented on that.  My dad tells her to think of our house as a big fraternity, where its members have just as much in common, as they do not.

As we make the drive to Grace's house,  Pastor Jill is writing in her notebook.  She does a lot of writing, and she makes a lot of observations.   I ask her if she is obtaining the information from her visit here that she was expecting.  She tells me it is much more enlightening than she expected it to be. I ask her what she is hoping to walk away with once she heads back to Orlando.  She explains to me that she hopes to have a better understanding on how a teenage boy is so driven in life by a faith he was never taught.  How faith has carried him through more difficult times in his young life than seems possible given the different paths he could have taken, that would clearly be much easier to fall victim to, with using the tragedies in his life as an excuse.  I tell her my theory on age playing a very important role in peoples life.  I tell her that after her visit with Grace, she will understand what I mean by that.  I tell her I believe the less you fear in life, the stronger your faith carries you.

When we arrive at Grace's house, she is sitting in their family room.   We both smile big at each other and she come over and gives me a big tight baby bear hug.  She is wearing her little pink sweatsuit with big fuzzy pink slippers and a pink knit hat.  Sitting on the sofa where she had been sitting is a notebook and a pen.  I introduce her and her parents to Pastor Jill and inform Pastor Jill that it looks like she is going to be interviewed today, which is normal for Grace to do.  I am sure inside that notebook is a page with Pastor Jill written across the top, and at least five questions in it to conduct her interview.  I tell Grace that Pastor Jill will want to take notes about their visit and when they are through, I will spend some time with her if she would like.   We leave them to their meeting and exit the room to sit in the kitchen.   Grace's parents would like to visit with me about some news regarding Grace and her medical things.  It is about 40 minutes later when we see Grace standing at the door between the kitchen and the living area.  She lets me know that their visit is done and would I like to go to her room and see a gift her neighbor brought to her.  I do this, and it leaves Pastor Jill to visit with Grace's parents.  Noticing Grace is looking tired, her mother lets everyone know that in a bit, Grace would need to lay down and rest. 

Our visit is done and over with and I invite Pastor Jill to stop along the way home and eat supper.  She accepts the invitation and comments on how maybe we can spend our supper time, with casual conversation that is light and breezy.  I am all for that I tell her, looking forward to relaxing not only my mind but also my heart.  It turns out to be a great conversation, as we learn more about each others lives then faith and tragedy.  We talk about our hobbies and our commitments and our daily grind.   I learn more about her family unit and what her kids are involved in.  We talk about my misfit brothers and my best buddies Geo and Tommy.  We talk about my cousins Kaylee and Kyle and how much I miss them and wished they lived closer.  I am not selective with my words when I talk about my life.  She notices this and points it out to me.  By the end of our meal, we are full and ready to head back to my house.  I let her know that there is sure to be more bodies in the house but they will respect our privacy and give us space.

Sure enough, when we walk in, Zander is sitting in front of the TV, messing around on his laptop, with a law book sitting next to him.   I noticed my dads motorcycle was home, and felt the heat on it, telling me he had went for a bike ride, so he was done with his chores.  I find him on his hands and knees in the play area he put together for the kids that call him Papa, sorting through the kids books we keep on hand.  I tell Pastor Jill, he is thinking of expanding the library, so he is going through the books so he doesn't duplicate them.  She goes over and makes note of the religious books that sit along the shelves with the child's books.  Yes, I tell her, we share the stories of God with my nieces and nephews.  We sit back down where all our books and journals are still laid out.  It isn't long and we both comment on how quickly the time has passed each time we sit at this table.  We both gather up our belongings, me taking mine to my room and her repacking hers in the brief case.   Pastor Jill asks if we can visit briefly about Grace's journey so we sit out back on the deck, in the hopes that time does not move as quickly as it does inside.

We talk about Grace for about an hour, sharing our thoughts on were her courage truly comes from.  We both agree, that Grace's strength is a show for her parents.  We comment on how great it is that her parents are honest with her about the length of what her life has become.  I tell her about the visits, the joys and sorrows of them.  I express to her my belief that I feel Grace has had contact with those already in heaven.  I share slightly more with her about things regarding Grace that others will read one day in the book of her journey.  I do this to help her understand more about my faith and my journey and my beliefs.  We talk about the struggles it takes to write the weekly blogs and how exhausting they are because once I type them out, they become reality and there is no hiding what is bound to happen in the weeks to come.

I share with Pastor Jill how her parents told me today that they have halted any further treatments for Grace as per her request.  How Grace may have one to two good weeks left, before the growth of the tumor will start to change her.  How they will insert a breathing and feeding tube into her and hook her up to a morphine drip.  How probably in less than a week they will admit her to the hospital, where all this will take place, again, as per Grace's wishes.  She does not want to leave her parents in their house.  She does not want those memories left hanging in the home they shared together for over eight years.  They cannot predict what will happen, but they can prepare us.  She may lose her eye sight, she may lose her speech.  She will get to the point where the morphine will alter her thinking and what little she will communicate, if she can, will may make little or no sense to us at.

This is the final conversation I will share with Pastor Jill about Grace.  I invite her to stay with us for the night, and wake up in the morning and share a meal with me and the rest of the misfits.  She accepts this, and once everyone is settle into new sleeping arrangements and the house is quiet I find myself sleepless and thinking about things I wish I could change, but know I cannot.  I know what I must do though, and that is to visit Grace daily, and grind out her story so when she is no longer capable of telling it to me, she is not disappointed in an abrupt end.  It is something I am not looking forward to, as each day now is sure to prove more difficult for her to get through, but I am looking forward to her smiles and the fun we will have, as she plays out the end of her courage and strength on earth, before she spreads it back down to us from heaven.

Amazing Grace XV: "I Think I Am Ready"

Each time I visit Grace, at some point, I read her my blog from the visit the week before.  Most times I do not get to reading it before she gets anxious and will ask me, "Jett, read me 'our' blog".   This past Wednesday was no different, with the exception of me unsure as how this weeks reading would go.   Last weeks blog was extremely difficult for me to write and would not be much easier for me to share with the tiny girl it was written about.  From the moment I published it for everyone to read to that very minute when Grace asked me to read her 'our' blog, the haunting realization that I would soon lose my on earth friendship with Grace has not left my mind.

Grace has never once held back any feelings she has regarding her fate.  For the most part, she was OK and feared nothing, but every once in a while, very rarely though, she would express her fear of the unknown.  I often wonder silently if Grace truly understands the dynamics of her disease, the toll it has taken on not only her, but all those that know her.  Many times she has mentioned something to me that makes me believe she is already in contact with those beyond the earth.  Things she talks about as if she has already visited heaven and returned a little more ready to leave us.  Then there are times that she is a total eight year old little girl with questions that make you realize just how much life she has not lived at all.  A very dear friend to me and I recently talked about fear and how she feels the older she gets, the more she fears.  I find comfort in that statement simply because if that is something many people in their adult lives experience, perhaps Grace really does not fear much, because the innocence of her youth does not allow her to realize all there is to fear in life.

Grace settles in the middle of her bed, laying back, waiting for me to settle in for the reading of  'our' blog.  I take the article out of my backpack and pull up a chair next to Graces bed, as was routine when we relived our last visit through the blog.  She notices my clear hesitation today, as I fumble with my thoughts.  "It is OK Jett, just read it to me."  She says this as she looks into my eyes.  I read 'our' blog to her, word for word, as she keeps her eyes on me.  I purposely do not look at Grace as I read, because I know once we make eye contact, she will see the sadness that once again has taken over my entire being.  Grace takes the article from me  when I have finished reading it to her.  She very carefully puts it into her bag, so she can give it to her dad to read that evening.

"You did a good job on this one Jett", she says, "I think it was 'our' best one so far."   I often have to stop and remember she is the eight year old, and I am the 19 year old.  I muster a smile.  A smile when all I really want to do is cry.  Grace scoots herself over to one side of her bed, which is her way of telling me she wants me to lay next to her, and talk.  Most of our talks take place with us in this very position, and occasionally I have to look over to Grace, and make sure she has not fallen asleep.  "Grace, do you want to talk about 'our' blog, or do you want to talk about something else?"  I ask her.  I love the little pauses she has before she speaks, as she carefully plans her words.  "I am sad for my daddy Jett, because he cannot fix me.  My daddy always used to be able to fix me when I would get hurt.  He always made things feel good again.  I think he wants to fix me."   I look over at Grace, and she has silent tears forming in her eyes.  I do not often see Grace cry, in fact, she has witnessed  me cry a lot more than I have her.  I reply to this best I can.  "I think you are right Grace, and I think if he knew what to do for you, he would.  The only thing left now, is for you to fix your daddy.  I think you do that well.  I think you are doing all the right things so that when you leave him, he will eventually be OK.  I think he will miss you terribly forever, but I think in time he will have all the good memories you leave him to keep his heart from being broke."

"I know my mommy and my daddy will be OK.  I know you will be OK too Jett.  And I know I will be OK again too."  Her tiny tired voice tells me.  I turn and smile at her.   "Yes Grace, we will all be OK."

"What will happen to all my things when I die?"  The tears have since rolled down her cheeks, leaving her eyes clear once again.  "What would you like to happen to all your things Grace?" , I ask.  "Let's make another list Jett, of all my things, so I can decide where they should go."  She is suddenly back to the Grace that carries on as if she has never had to think about never turning nine years old.  We both sit up on her bed, side by side, with our feet hanging over the edge.  I reach into my backpack and take out a notebook and a pen.  Grace takes it from me, "I will start my list and then you can finish it."  She opens the notebook to a blank page and across the top writes, MY STUFF.  I let Grace create her list and as I watch her I think about the length of this list, and how it might compare to other eight year old girls.  She begin by writing down the number one, and her list began to grow.  It looked a little like this:

1.  Linda, George, and Jenny, and all their stuff.
2.  My wedding veil.
3.  My disney princess blanket.
4.  My bag and books and pencils.
5. 

She stops on the number five.  This is where we will start she tells me.  "I think you should give Olivia all my barbie's things.  Do not let her keep them shut in their case please.  They need to be played with a lot.  You can play with her."  My mind races, because what am I supposed to say now?  Grace is preparing a will.  She is doing what you should never have to do until you are all grown up into adulthood.  She doesn't even know that this is what she is doing.  Here is this little girl, who owns very little material things, finding good homes for the items she treasures.  She will wear her wedding veil when she leaves, so she will be ready for God when she gets to heaven.  She would like her disney princess blanket to stay with her mommy, so she can sit at night when it is cold and wrap it around her shoulders and remember her.   "What about your bag and all your writings and all your lists we made Gracie?"   She ponders this for a second or two.  "I would like you to keep them Jett, and when my next birthday is here, I would like you to give my mommy and daddy my memory book I am making for them.  You can put it in a pretty bag like you do when you bring me a gift."

"You stopped at the number five Grace, are you going to add to your list?"  I ask her.  "No, I think that is all I want to be on that list.  "You did a good job with that list Grace, and I will make sure Olivia takes good care of your barbie family."  She smiles, "I like that you will still be playing with my dolls when I go to heaven Jett.  And you have to do it to, because I will be watching you."  It brings a smile to my face, because as sad as I am that very soon my little friend will be gone from earth, she will not only be in my heart, she will be watching me from heaven, hopefully with my brother Joey sitting next to her, hanging their feet over the edge of the clouds.  Grace puts her feet up on the bed and her head on a pillow she has put on my leg.  She has been fighting to keep her eyes open and as I touch her face, I tell her to rest, and I will still be here when she wakes up.  When she has fallen asleep, I lay her back on the bed in her normal napping position.  She will take little naps throughout the reminder of my visit.  More now than ever before.  She tires easily, and her voice tends to fade quickly now when we talk. 
 
Each time Grace falls asleep on this day, I am laying next to her and watch her breathe.  I stay silent and just watch her sleep.  I love how peaceful she looks when she naps.  Any little movement of the bed has her open her eyes and look at me.  "You are not leaving yet are you?"   "No Grace", I tell her, "I am not going anywhere."  I watch as her eyes close again, and she drifts off to another peaceful nap.

I lay still, and I think about those words that last week were spoken, taking the very breath out of my lungs.  "I think I am ready".  I feel selfish wanting her to stay longer.  I believe once she leaves she will be free of all her pain.  Once she leaves, the rest of us can begin to grieve, mourn the loss of this angel on earth.  I cannot help but feeling anger about her fate.  I cannot help feeling helpless in what I can do for her.  I can only imagine how horrible her dad feels, not being able to fix this. 

She has rested and is ready to talk more.  She tells me how she feels we have so much more to talk bout so when she is gone, I can write her story.  We have created so many lists, and crossed off so many of the entries on those lists.  Things she has accomplished.  Things she has yet to accomplish.  Things she will never be able to do.  Things she has already done.  List after list we create together.  Lists that I know, had I not made with her, I would think was a waste of our time to even focus on.  The most recent list is a list of food that Grace has never gotten to try.  Like the chili dog she took maybe four tiny bits from today and is now crossed off her list.  The list of dances she will never get to do, like the daughter/daddy wedding dance she will never get to have.  Lists of things you and I take for granted in our lives.  Lists of things you and I never thought of when we were eight because we didn't think about not ever reaching the age where those things would take place.

Each time we cross something off one of Grace's buckets list, we talk about how that just became a memory.  The things she wants added to her lists have become scarce.  We have a lot of things to cross off before she leaves, and I wonder if she is stopping this process, knowing that because she has stated  'I think I am ready', it is time to focus on what is already on the list, and start accomplishing as much of those things as we can.

I think about all the things Grace would like me to write in a book when she is gone, regarding her journey.  We have already spent hours talking about the things she wants people to know about her life, and even more about the things she would like people to learn about her after her death.  The lists of accomplishments and the lists of the things she knows she will never accomplish.  The lists of the people she has met and the list of the people she knows she will never meet.  A few visits back I teased her about how she needs a list to keep track of all her lists.  She stared at me that day, as she dug out her notebook in her bag, opening it to the back page, and showed me the list of the lists she keeps.  We laughed until we cried that day, looking over her list of lists.  I LOVE this little girl.  She is sassy and bold.  She is sweet and kind.  She is honest as Abe.

It is nearing the time I need to be thinking about getting to an appointment I have made this evening.  I move to get up off her bed and sit in the chair still sitting next to it.  Grace wakes up and we lock eyes.   "Jett, remember last week when I told you I feel I am ready?"  she asks.  "Yes Grace", I respond.  "I am going to tell my daddy to stop my treatments now."  I touch her head and feel the scars from the surgeries that have since stopped because they were not helping halt the growth of cancer in her tiny skull.  "I love you Grace."  She puts her hand on top of my hand that is resting on her head.  "I love you too Jett."   She closes her tired dark eyes and drifts back off to sleep.  I gently kiss her head and gather my things to leave.

Grace's parents are standing outside her room tonight.  I feel the tears forming in my eyes.  Her dad looks at me and without me asking he says "Four to six weeks."  Not another word is spoken as I hug her mom tight, then hug her father too.  I leave the cancer center that day, not surprised by what I just heard, but certainly not happy.  Two weeks ago I was sitting with Grace's mom in the parents room while Grace was sleeping pretty soundly.  I did this often, sat with her in silence, with an occasional hand on her shoulder from time to time, letting her know I was still there.  This particular day Grace's doctor came and talked to her mom about the treatments, how they were no longer achieving any type of positive results, and the side effects would start turning on Grace's frail body and worn out system.    He assured  Grace's mom that they would not encourage treatments to continue, but ultimately it would be them that makes the decision to stop them, and hope for Grace to go peacefully, with very little pain.  They would give her morphine to make the remainder of her life comfortable.  It was at that point that I left the room, and pushed that conversation as far back in my heart as I could. 

I go home and fire up my laptop.  I hammer out a blog about life and its evil twin, death.  I am angry at the circle of life.  I am angry that an innocent child will die.  I am angry there is nothing I can do.  I am angry for feeling selfish about letting her go.  I am angry that all over the world, sick twisted heartless men live on death row for the sins they committed on earth.  I am angry that God will forgive them and one day they will live amongst us in heaven.  I am angry.  I want justice.  I want the bad to die, the good to live.  I want to go take Grace and run away where death cannot find her.  I search my my mind for where that place might be.  I google in search of places that could give her new hope, new life.  My mind races, trying to find somewhere to take her, to save her.

I feel a sudden calmness come over my frantic state of being.  I feel warmth wrap around me.  I feel more and more relaxed as I sit and listen to the silence around me.  "She's in your heart brother, right next to me.  That is the one place death cannot get us."   I could fill a bucket with the tears falling from my eyes, pouring out from my mind, my heart, and my soul.  "You cannot fix her, but she can fix you."  I feel as someone is whispering in my ear, reminding me that faith in God, is trust in God.

Death is an act of God. He alone is in control.