Each time I visit Grace, I stay a little longer during our visit. I don’t worry about overstaying my welcome, as Grace does not hesitate to tell me it’s time for me to go. The last few visits, she has encouraged me to stay longer. I don’t mind at all, it gives me more time to spend with my little friend and document more of her journey. I know our days are numbered, currently by the week, but soon it will be day to day. Grace does not hide this information from me, and her parents do not hide this information from her. So we enjoy every moment we have together, so we can record in writing her journey in life.
Grace guides me in writing the journal of her journey, carefully telling me what not to publish while she is still with us on earth, which gives me many words to put in to print once she leaves us, but remains in our hearts. I bring the articles to her to read from our prior visit. She is my biggest critic, but she gets that luxury because it’s her words I am relaying, it’s her life I am revealing. “I really wanted you to write more about our time spent playing with my barbies Jett.” I respond. “Grace, do you really think people want to read about the 20 minutes of the time we spent playing barbies?” She giggles, as any little girl would. “Well maybe not, but I want the world to know how you used your girl voice when we played.” I can only shake my head, and include that conversation this week, because leaving it out will result in a lecture about how I am supposed to let her tell her story through me, and leaving out the fun stuff for her is against one of her conditions in the interview portions of my visits. Are all 8 year old girls this bossy? Or am I being somewhat bullied? It makes me laugh, because I am totally being controlled by this little girl, and I love every minute of it.
As easy as it is for me to talk to Grace, it’s difficult to keep control of the interview portion of my visit with her. During our last visit, we spent a few minutes talking about the best candy in the world. Like either one of us has the expertise to determine that, but we know what we like. STARBURSTS Grace blurts out. SIXLETS I trump her with. LAFFY TAFFY she says. BABY RUTH BARS I state. SKITTLES ORGINAL she says. ANYTHING REESES I tell her. I see a pattern here. One of us is addicted to chocolate, the other is fruity. This is usually at the point when we have our best friend conversations. When we find out just how not alike we are. We spend so much time talking about the things we have in common, that when we find out how much we are different, it opens up a whole new path to building a stronger friendship.
This week I brought a box of jelly bean that when you taste two or more beans together, they create a whole new flavor. We open the box, using the instructions given, to pick a flavor we think is interesting and grab those jelly beans to make that flavor, and see if we can taste what they say we should. Two blueberry and one buttered popcorn is a blueberry muffin. We agree. Two rootbeer and a cream soda is a rootbeer float. We both agree. We tried several different recipes and we agreed with all of them.
It was not the taste tasting that I enjoyed in this little project we created. It was the silence we shared after we choose, picked, and tasted the combinations. It was those 30 seconds after we both popped the jelly beans into our mouths and savored the flavor. It was sitting there waiting for the beans to mix in our mouths forming the flavor we were anxious to taste. It was 30 seconds or so of forgetting the reason we had become friends. It was the brief moments in this project that took both of us away from the treatments, the pain, the frustrations of dealing with the part of Grace’s journey in life. You can only eat so many combinations of jelly beans before your taste buds give out on you. We were at that point and decided to put the box away, so we were not tempted to keep going, ruining our experience.
“Jett? What do you think about when everything is quiet in your life and your mind is not busy with anything?” I remind myself that I need to be honest with Grace, not revealing things she really does not need to know, but also not hiding my life experiences from her. It’s only fair, because she is revealing so much of herself to me, I need to give that back to her when she requests it. “Well Gracie, my mind is always busy, even when I am not. I am always thinking ahead of the things I want to do, the things I have promised others. I probably spend more time trying to uncluttered my thoughts than actually experiencing quiet times in my mind. What do you think about during quiet times?”
“I think about God and heaven a lot.” She says softly. “I am not afraid to go to heaven. I know only my spirit will go up to heaven. My dad told me that there is not enough room in heaven for all the bodies to go with the spirits. That is why I do not care that I am not as pretty as other girls. My dad tells me how beautiful I am but I see how other girls look, and I see how I look, and I know he is talking about my insides and not the outside.”
“Gracie, you are just as pretty as any girl I know. I see the scars from your surgeries, and I see the absence of your hair. I see how tiny you are from all the things you have going on medically. But not once have I ever thought you were less than a pretty girl.” I said these things and I meant them, but by the look on Grace’s face I could tell she was not convinced.
“Grace, did you know that you can look into someone’s eyes and you can see what emotion they are feeling in their hearts? When I look into your Mom’s eyes, I see how much she loves you. I see how much she wishes she could take away all your pain, all your cancer. When I visit with your Dad and look into his eyes, I can see how troubled he is about what you face daily. I can tell he loves you so much and how much he already misses the years he will not get to share with you. Look into my eyes Grace, and tell me what you see.”
The silence while she studies my eyes is golden. I look back into her eyes because I know she will ask me what I see in her eyes. Anyone that would happen to walk into the room at the moment would think we were having a no blink stare down.
“You are sad. You are tired. And I can see me in your eyes. That is what I see. What are you seeing in my eyes Jett?” Told you so, shaking my head. She cannot refrain from taking over my interview of her. I answer her. “I see a very strong person who does not fear the world. I see someone with this huge heart full of love who always makes room for more love to be put inside of her heart. I see a beautiful soul through those sparkling eyes that accepts God’s plan for her. I see God’s Grace in Grace’s eyes.”
“What does that mean Jett? God’s Grace?”
“So that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. “ [Titus 3:7]
I tell Grace, as quoted from the Bible. “I know this quote well, because when my brother was dying from lung cancer, a special friend to him used to lay next to him and read the Bible to him. Joey was intrigued by this bible verse quote, and his wish was that when he died, he died by the Grace of God. You cannot earn the Grace of God, it is something God gives you. When you strengthen your faith and live under God’s laws he will grant you his Grace when you get to his Kingdom and you will live eternally in his house.”
“Maybe next week you can read some of the Bible to me. Maybe I can go to church with you soon and know what it is like for you to be there.” She forms this into a question but I know she is adding attending church with me to her bucket list. I am happy to share this part of my life with Grace.
Grace is tired and lets me know it is time to end our visit for the day so she can get rest. She reminds me I still need to take her skating. She reminds me I still need to introduce her to my dad, as well as some more of my friends. Grace adding things to her bucket list lets me know she is staying strong and making plans to keep our time together going. This makes my heart feel good.
We continue our ritual of our pink swear moment. We hug tight. We say our so long for now. I head to the door, knowing Grace will stop me one more time with instructions for our next visit.
“Jett?”
“Yes Grace?”
“Leave those jelly beans here.”
How does she do that? I laugh. I was going to eat them on the ride home. I turn and walk them over to her. I hand her the box. She does not crack a smile. At least not while I am walking away. I turn to say so long again, and catch her grinning from ear to ear. She gets me every time.
“Next week I want to write in your journal.” She firmly states.
“Goodbye Amazing Gracie. See you soon.”
“Goodbye Jett”
Grace guides me in writing the journal of her journey, carefully telling me what not to publish while she is still with us on earth, which gives me many words to put in to print once she leaves us, but remains in our hearts. I bring the articles to her to read from our prior visit. She is my biggest critic, but she gets that luxury because it’s her words I am relaying, it’s her life I am revealing. “I really wanted you to write more about our time spent playing with my barbies Jett.” I respond. “Grace, do you really think people want to read about the 20 minutes of the time we spent playing barbies?” She giggles, as any little girl would. “Well maybe not, but I want the world to know how you used your girl voice when we played.” I can only shake my head, and include that conversation this week, because leaving it out will result in a lecture about how I am supposed to let her tell her story through me, and leaving out the fun stuff for her is against one of her conditions in the interview portions of my visits. Are all 8 year old girls this bossy? Or am I being somewhat bullied? It makes me laugh, because I am totally being controlled by this little girl, and I love every minute of it.
As easy as it is for me to talk to Grace, it’s difficult to keep control of the interview portion of my visit with her. During our last visit, we spent a few minutes talking about the best candy in the world. Like either one of us has the expertise to determine that, but we know what we like. STARBURSTS Grace blurts out. SIXLETS I trump her with. LAFFY TAFFY she says. BABY RUTH BARS I state. SKITTLES ORGINAL she says. ANYTHING REESES I tell her. I see a pattern here. One of us is addicted to chocolate, the other is fruity. This is usually at the point when we have our best friend conversations. When we find out just how not alike we are. We spend so much time talking about the things we have in common, that when we find out how much we are different, it opens up a whole new path to building a stronger friendship.
This week I brought a box of jelly bean that when you taste two or more beans together, they create a whole new flavor. We open the box, using the instructions given, to pick a flavor we think is interesting and grab those jelly beans to make that flavor, and see if we can taste what they say we should. Two blueberry and one buttered popcorn is a blueberry muffin. We agree. Two rootbeer and a cream soda is a rootbeer float. We both agree. We tried several different recipes and we agreed with all of them.
It was not the taste tasting that I enjoyed in this little project we created. It was the silence we shared after we choose, picked, and tasted the combinations. It was those 30 seconds after we both popped the jelly beans into our mouths and savored the flavor. It was sitting there waiting for the beans to mix in our mouths forming the flavor we were anxious to taste. It was 30 seconds or so of forgetting the reason we had become friends. It was the brief moments in this project that took both of us away from the treatments, the pain, the frustrations of dealing with the part of Grace’s journey in life. You can only eat so many combinations of jelly beans before your taste buds give out on you. We were at that point and decided to put the box away, so we were not tempted to keep going, ruining our experience.
“Jett? What do you think about when everything is quiet in your life and your mind is not busy with anything?” I remind myself that I need to be honest with Grace, not revealing things she really does not need to know, but also not hiding my life experiences from her. It’s only fair, because she is revealing so much of herself to me, I need to give that back to her when she requests it. “Well Gracie, my mind is always busy, even when I am not. I am always thinking ahead of the things I want to do, the things I have promised others. I probably spend more time trying to uncluttered my thoughts than actually experiencing quiet times in my mind. What do you think about during quiet times?”
“I think about God and heaven a lot.” She says softly. “I am not afraid to go to heaven. I know only my spirit will go up to heaven. My dad told me that there is not enough room in heaven for all the bodies to go with the spirits. That is why I do not care that I am not as pretty as other girls. My dad tells me how beautiful I am but I see how other girls look, and I see how I look, and I know he is talking about my insides and not the outside.”
“Gracie, you are just as pretty as any girl I know. I see the scars from your surgeries, and I see the absence of your hair. I see how tiny you are from all the things you have going on medically. But not once have I ever thought you were less than a pretty girl.” I said these things and I meant them, but by the look on Grace’s face I could tell she was not convinced.
“Grace, did you know that you can look into someone’s eyes and you can see what emotion they are feeling in their hearts? When I look into your Mom’s eyes, I see how much she loves you. I see how much she wishes she could take away all your pain, all your cancer. When I visit with your Dad and look into his eyes, I can see how troubled he is about what you face daily. I can tell he loves you so much and how much he already misses the years he will not get to share with you. Look into my eyes Grace, and tell me what you see.”
The silence while she studies my eyes is golden. I look back into her eyes because I know she will ask me what I see in her eyes. Anyone that would happen to walk into the room at the moment would think we were having a no blink stare down.
“You are sad. You are tired. And I can see me in your eyes. That is what I see. What are you seeing in my eyes Jett?” Told you so, shaking my head. She cannot refrain from taking over my interview of her. I answer her. “I see a very strong person who does not fear the world. I see someone with this huge heart full of love who always makes room for more love to be put inside of her heart. I see a beautiful soul through those sparkling eyes that accepts God’s plan for her. I see God’s Grace in Grace’s eyes.”
“What does that mean Jett? God’s Grace?”
“So that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life. “ [Titus 3:7]
I tell Grace, as quoted from the Bible. “I know this quote well, because when my brother was dying from lung cancer, a special friend to him used to lay next to him and read the Bible to him. Joey was intrigued by this bible verse quote, and his wish was that when he died, he died by the Grace of God. You cannot earn the Grace of God, it is something God gives you. When you strengthen your faith and live under God’s laws he will grant you his Grace when you get to his Kingdom and you will live eternally in his house.”
“Maybe next week you can read some of the Bible to me. Maybe I can go to church with you soon and know what it is like for you to be there.” She forms this into a question but I know she is adding attending church with me to her bucket list. I am happy to share this part of my life with Grace.
Grace is tired and lets me know it is time to end our visit for the day so she can get rest. She reminds me I still need to take her skating. She reminds me I still need to introduce her to my dad, as well as some more of my friends. Grace adding things to her bucket list lets me know she is staying strong and making plans to keep our time together going. This makes my heart feel good.
We continue our ritual of our pink swear moment. We hug tight. We say our so long for now. I head to the door, knowing Grace will stop me one more time with instructions for our next visit.
“Jett?”
“Yes Grace?”
“Leave those jelly beans here.”
How does she do that? I laugh. I was going to eat them on the ride home. I turn and walk them over to her. I hand her the box. She does not crack a smile. At least not while I am walking away. I turn to say so long again, and catch her grinning from ear to ear. She gets me every time.
“Next week I want to write in your journal.” She firmly states.
“Goodbye Amazing Gracie. See you soon.”
“Goodbye Jett”
