A few Saturdays ago, Grace came and spent a few hours at my house. It was one of many things she wanted to cross off her bucket list, along with several other items we have added to it together since I first met her. She met several of my friends and family members that evening, however my guardian, Jake, whom I refer to as my dad, was out of town that day. I was instructed by my bossy sassy friend to bring him with me on my next visit to see her. I was happy to ask him, and he was happy to accept. Like my family and friends present to meet Grace when she visited my house, my dad only knows about Grace what I had blogged, and had not yet met her in person. In fact, my dad asked me very few questions about Grace, for whatever reason. I could guess that my dad felt it was hard for me to talk about, as he often watched me struggle in front of my laptop, trying to put into words, my journey with Grace as she walked further from hers on earth, and closer to her journey to God.
My dad wanted to take something to Grace, but he struggled with what that gift could be. He had asked me several times what he could take to her, but I offered no help. It was a touchy subject with me, as many of my family and friends and students on campus ask this same question. I try to explain to them that this is not about showering Grace with gifts, it is about Grace sharing her life's journey with them, through me. One of the first pinkie swears I had to make with Grace was that I was not to gift her things because she was sick and I wanted to do things to make her feel better. She did not want to focus on what was to become, but wanted to guide me through her first eight years of life. She wanted me to let her tell her story of living, and leave me with the tools to finish her story of her death, after she has left earth.
Wednesday morning my dad and I made arrangements to meet at the treatment center where I would go to conduct my interview with Grace, and allow her to tell me the stories she wanted me to share in the book that would be written after her death. He would be there, he promised, and he would be prompt. I told him it is important to Grace that we are not late, or she would worry about whether we would show up or not. I thought about introducing them today, and how things would go. I thought about how maybe a gift from my dad to Grace would be a good ice breaker between them. At least it would put my dad at ease. I called and made arrangement to meet him at a local retail store, and that I had the perfect idea of what he could gift to Grace.
Once we found each other at the store, I hauled my dad back to the kids aisles, walked him to the barbie doll section, and told him that Grace loves her barbie dolls and maybe he could find her some nice barbie clothes to pick out for her. OK, so color me rotten, but this was a win win for all of us. My dad would be taking Grace a gift that she would be excited to receive and I, well, I would witness my dad taking his selections to the register. A 6'3", 210lbs of muscle, 40 year old dude, buying barbie clothes. Course I was going to laugh at this, and I would laugh again when Grace would pull out her barbies, and introduce them to my dad. Then maybe he would lay off me about the day I spent playing with barbie dolls with Grace not to long ago.
Gift bought, we move on to the treatment center, where we will spend a couple hours at least, visiting with Grace. Me collecting more of her life's stories, and my dad getting to know the girl that truly has taken up a big portion of space inside my heart. As was routine, we stopped by the family waiting room that Grace's parents call a temporary home to them, 4 days a week, while Grace receives medical attention and treatments. The introduction of my dad to Grace's mom is brief, but only because if we don't get to Grace in the next three minutes, we will be past the time Grace is expecting us.
We enter her room and find her sitting in a recliner, covered in her pink Disney Princess blanket, resting comfortably. "Grace, this is my dad, Jake" She smiles huge. "Hi Mr Pauling, it is very nice to meet you finally. You can sit here next to me." My dad sits in the wooden chair she has invited him to sit in, shopping bag in hand. "Grace, it is very nice to meet you too." She noticed the bag and I know she is anxious to find out its contents, but she says nothing. We all chat for a few minutes, small talk, mainly about how Grace has been feeling this past week, since I last visited with her. She asks me for her bag, which she keeps under her pillow on the bed. I retrieve it for her, she pulls out her pink journal and hands it to me. "You can go sit with my mommy for a while Jett, and I can visit with your dad. You can read some things I've written if you would like." I knew Grace wanted to spend some time alone with my dad, so I expected her to find a way for me to exit. I laugh. "OK Grace, enjoy your visit. I will see you in a little while."
It was a solid hour later when I looked up and saw my dad as he entered the room I was sitting in. I was anxious to hear how their visit went, but that would have to wait. Grace requested for me to return to her room and visit with her some more. My dad's instructions from Grace were to wait with her mother and visit with her, while her and I write more of her story and visit with each other. It made me smile, she got to boss him, because that's not something I have been able to accomplish with him since he took me on. He's the boss, what he says goes, unless you are Grace.
I did return to Graces room, and upon entering she was now sitting on her bed, surrounded by her barbies, as well as the gifts my dad brought to her. "Your dad told me you would be anxious to play barbies with me and my new clothes for them." She grinned, and I did not. I make a mental note, next week I am bringing a bag of worms and a marsh mellow gun. I sit on the bed with Grace and we talk a bit about her visit with my dad. "I like him Jett, he is nice." I agree. "Yes Grace, he is a great dad and he is a great friend. Would you like to tell me about your visit so I can include it in the book we are writing?" She looks at me and pulls her sassy trigger. "You just want to know what we talked about. Our visit is a secret, we even pinkie swore to it." I am crushed. "You pinkie swore a secret to my dad? That hurts!" She just giggles. "Yes and he will never tell you the secret no matter how much you bother him."
I find myself playing barbies with her, not really even aware I have been doing this. I am that comfortable with my little friend. I noticed Grace was looking tired. It seemed to me that lately she was pushing herself on the days I visited her, not wanting our time together to end. "You're tired Grace, I can see it in your eyes right now." She responds that she is tired, but we are having such a great visit, she does not want this day to end. "Jett, why do you only come to see me on Wednesdays? I am here other days too." I remind her this is what we agreed on, her and her parents, and myself. "Would you like me to come by another day as well Grace? Which day would work for you?" After a short pause she says, "You can come here anytime you want on the days I am here, and if you want to you can come visit me at my house. We have so much to do and I feel like our time is running out."
As much as Grace and I talk about how things will be on earth once she leaves, that comment stuck a reality check with me that I would be happy to avoid at all cost. I gather up all of her barbie things and stuff them into their carrying case. "Fold them nicely Jett, so they do not get messy." I have learned more about how girly a girl can be in my visits with this very girly girl. As I finish putting her things away, she lays back on her bed, noticeably moving to one side of it, which is her invitation for me to lay next to her. This is her routine for us when she is going to talk openly to me about things on her mind. These are the things that I know to pay close attention to, because she will want these things said in print, when I write the book that will be story of the last year of her eight year old life.
"You know Jett, every day that ends, I get further away from being eight, and closer to being nine." she quietly says to me. "I know Gracie." I tell her. "I pray everyday that when you are ten, we are still playing barbies, but from your house, and not from this building."
Grace looks at me with that look that makes me realize I am dealing with someone who may be eight in years, but is going to say something to me that makes me feel eight, and her seem ancient. "You do not pray that we will get to play barbies forever Jett. I know you would rather play hockey or one of your video games than play barbies." I remind her of the summer adventure we will go on once I am done with my sophomore year of college and we can spend a few weekdays now and then completing her bucket list. "We still have to go fishing and you still want to skate with me right?" She smiles big. "I hope we get to do those things, I have never touched a worm before." Truth be known, either have I, and the thought creeps me out, I tell Grace.
A few minutes pass and when I look at Grace she is resting comfortably, eyes closed, face towards the ceiling. I look at her in this state of calm, and I cannot help thinking how peaceful she looks when she lays like this. I think about the day that Grace will lay to rest, in solemn peace, and stand before God as he welcomes her into his Kingdom. No more pain. No more treatments. No more headaches. She is tougher than nails, this little angel, enduring more in her eight years on earth, than most of us will have to in our long lives. I think about how we have a lifetime to prepare ourselves for the ever after in life. Do you ever say that? Or hear that? "You have the rest of your life."
A lifetime. It can be as short as a second after you are conceived, or as long as the ripe old age of 78.1 as calculated by the World Bank of 2009 as the average life span. It can be as full filling as you want it to be, or as empty as you allow it to be. You can live a lifetime in eight years. You can die of old age and have never full filled a lifetime of living. The only sure thing about life, is the eternal life you advance too, when your life on earth is done. We make a lot of choices in our human form, and not all of them will be the right choice, but never the less, they are our choice's to make. You can choose to enjoy every moment you breathe, or you can choose to live in fear for the moment you will take your last breath.
As I look at Grace, so peaceful in her slumber, I find how much I admire her strength and courage in what she has faced this past year. I reflect on the things I have faced this past year and compare it to her journey. I feel ashamed for some of the choices I have made. I feel weak in some of the areas I should have been stronger in. I tell myself I will be stronger at the moments of my life that I feel challenged by what I am facing. I will struggle, and I will fall, but I will succeed in my journey. I will honor the path of those that went before me. It was almost 45 minutes later and Grace was still resting peacefully. It is not often that I leave before Grace wakes up so we can say a proper good-bye, but she seemed so tired when we laid back to talk freely about what was on her mind. I pulled myself up off her bed and moved her to the center of it. She opened her eyes and smiled up at me. I bent over to kiss my angel on the cheek. She lifted her hand and extended her pinkie finger towards me without say a word. I took my pinkie and hugged hers with it. She closed her eyes and continued to rest as I made my way to the door. I stopped at the door and turned back to Grace as I reached inside my bag and pulled out a gift she would get when she woke up later in the afternoon. I laid it next to her along with another gift that was sure to get one of those girly scream out of her when she saw it.
I exited her room today with a big smile. I was already excited to visit her the next time, to see what she thought about the gifts I laid next to her. I walked to the room where her mother and my dad were waiting for me. "What is that smile about?" My dad asked. "I'm an awesome big brother." I replied. He put his arm around my shoulders as we walked away from the cancer center. His silence assured me I was not alone in that thought. I hoped Gracie felt the same way. If she did, I could cross that off my own bucket list.
My dad wanted to take something to Grace, but he struggled with what that gift could be. He had asked me several times what he could take to her, but I offered no help. It was a touchy subject with me, as many of my family and friends and students on campus ask this same question. I try to explain to them that this is not about showering Grace with gifts, it is about Grace sharing her life's journey with them, through me. One of the first pinkie swears I had to make with Grace was that I was not to gift her things because she was sick and I wanted to do things to make her feel better. She did not want to focus on what was to become, but wanted to guide me through her first eight years of life. She wanted me to let her tell her story of living, and leave me with the tools to finish her story of her death, after she has left earth.
Wednesday morning my dad and I made arrangements to meet at the treatment center where I would go to conduct my interview with Grace, and allow her to tell me the stories she wanted me to share in the book that would be written after her death. He would be there, he promised, and he would be prompt. I told him it is important to Grace that we are not late, or she would worry about whether we would show up or not. I thought about introducing them today, and how things would go. I thought about how maybe a gift from my dad to Grace would be a good ice breaker between them. At least it would put my dad at ease. I called and made arrangement to meet him at a local retail store, and that I had the perfect idea of what he could gift to Grace.
Once we found each other at the store, I hauled my dad back to the kids aisles, walked him to the barbie doll section, and told him that Grace loves her barbie dolls and maybe he could find her some nice barbie clothes to pick out for her. OK, so color me rotten, but this was a win win for all of us. My dad would be taking Grace a gift that she would be excited to receive and I, well, I would witness my dad taking his selections to the register. A 6'3", 210lbs of muscle, 40 year old dude, buying barbie clothes. Course I was going to laugh at this, and I would laugh again when Grace would pull out her barbies, and introduce them to my dad. Then maybe he would lay off me about the day I spent playing with barbie dolls with Grace not to long ago.
Gift bought, we move on to the treatment center, where we will spend a couple hours at least, visiting with Grace. Me collecting more of her life's stories, and my dad getting to know the girl that truly has taken up a big portion of space inside my heart. As was routine, we stopped by the family waiting room that Grace's parents call a temporary home to them, 4 days a week, while Grace receives medical attention and treatments. The introduction of my dad to Grace's mom is brief, but only because if we don't get to Grace in the next three minutes, we will be past the time Grace is expecting us.
We enter her room and find her sitting in a recliner, covered in her pink Disney Princess blanket, resting comfortably. "Grace, this is my dad, Jake" She smiles huge. "Hi Mr Pauling, it is very nice to meet you finally. You can sit here next to me." My dad sits in the wooden chair she has invited him to sit in, shopping bag in hand. "Grace, it is very nice to meet you too." She noticed the bag and I know she is anxious to find out its contents, but she says nothing. We all chat for a few minutes, small talk, mainly about how Grace has been feeling this past week, since I last visited with her. She asks me for her bag, which she keeps under her pillow on the bed. I retrieve it for her, she pulls out her pink journal and hands it to me. "You can go sit with my mommy for a while Jett, and I can visit with your dad. You can read some things I've written if you would like." I knew Grace wanted to spend some time alone with my dad, so I expected her to find a way for me to exit. I laugh. "OK Grace, enjoy your visit. I will see you in a little while."
It was a solid hour later when I looked up and saw my dad as he entered the room I was sitting in. I was anxious to hear how their visit went, but that would have to wait. Grace requested for me to return to her room and visit with her some more. My dad's instructions from Grace were to wait with her mother and visit with her, while her and I write more of her story and visit with each other. It made me smile, she got to boss him, because that's not something I have been able to accomplish with him since he took me on. He's the boss, what he says goes, unless you are Grace.
I did return to Graces room, and upon entering she was now sitting on her bed, surrounded by her barbies, as well as the gifts my dad brought to her. "Your dad told me you would be anxious to play barbies with me and my new clothes for them." She grinned, and I did not. I make a mental note, next week I am bringing a bag of worms and a marsh mellow gun. I sit on the bed with Grace and we talk a bit about her visit with my dad. "I like him Jett, he is nice." I agree. "Yes Grace, he is a great dad and he is a great friend. Would you like to tell me about your visit so I can include it in the book we are writing?" She looks at me and pulls her sassy trigger. "You just want to know what we talked about. Our visit is a secret, we even pinkie swore to it." I am crushed. "You pinkie swore a secret to my dad? That hurts!" She just giggles. "Yes and he will never tell you the secret no matter how much you bother him."
I find myself playing barbies with her, not really even aware I have been doing this. I am that comfortable with my little friend. I noticed Grace was looking tired. It seemed to me that lately she was pushing herself on the days I visited her, not wanting our time together to end. "You're tired Grace, I can see it in your eyes right now." She responds that she is tired, but we are having such a great visit, she does not want this day to end. "Jett, why do you only come to see me on Wednesdays? I am here other days too." I remind her this is what we agreed on, her and her parents, and myself. "Would you like me to come by another day as well Grace? Which day would work for you?" After a short pause she says, "You can come here anytime you want on the days I am here, and if you want to you can come visit me at my house. We have so much to do and I feel like our time is running out."
As much as Grace and I talk about how things will be on earth once she leaves, that comment stuck a reality check with me that I would be happy to avoid at all cost. I gather up all of her barbie things and stuff them into their carrying case. "Fold them nicely Jett, so they do not get messy." I have learned more about how girly a girl can be in my visits with this very girly girl. As I finish putting her things away, she lays back on her bed, noticeably moving to one side of it, which is her invitation for me to lay next to her. This is her routine for us when she is going to talk openly to me about things on her mind. These are the things that I know to pay close attention to, because she will want these things said in print, when I write the book that will be story of the last year of her eight year old life.
"You know Jett, every day that ends, I get further away from being eight, and closer to being nine." she quietly says to me. "I know Gracie." I tell her. "I pray everyday that when you are ten, we are still playing barbies, but from your house, and not from this building."
Grace looks at me with that look that makes me realize I am dealing with someone who may be eight in years, but is going to say something to me that makes me feel eight, and her seem ancient. "You do not pray that we will get to play barbies forever Jett. I know you would rather play hockey or one of your video games than play barbies." I remind her of the summer adventure we will go on once I am done with my sophomore year of college and we can spend a few weekdays now and then completing her bucket list. "We still have to go fishing and you still want to skate with me right?" She smiles big. "I hope we get to do those things, I have never touched a worm before." Truth be known, either have I, and the thought creeps me out, I tell Grace.
A few minutes pass and when I look at Grace she is resting comfortably, eyes closed, face towards the ceiling. I look at her in this state of calm, and I cannot help thinking how peaceful she looks when she lays like this. I think about the day that Grace will lay to rest, in solemn peace, and stand before God as he welcomes her into his Kingdom. No more pain. No more treatments. No more headaches. She is tougher than nails, this little angel, enduring more in her eight years on earth, than most of us will have to in our long lives. I think about how we have a lifetime to prepare ourselves for the ever after in life. Do you ever say that? Or hear that? "You have the rest of your life."
A lifetime. It can be as short as a second after you are conceived, or as long as the ripe old age of 78.1 as calculated by the World Bank of 2009 as the average life span. It can be as full filling as you want it to be, or as empty as you allow it to be. You can live a lifetime in eight years. You can die of old age and have never full filled a lifetime of living. The only sure thing about life, is the eternal life you advance too, when your life on earth is done. We make a lot of choices in our human form, and not all of them will be the right choice, but never the less, they are our choice's to make. You can choose to enjoy every moment you breathe, or you can choose to live in fear for the moment you will take your last breath.
As I look at Grace, so peaceful in her slumber, I find how much I admire her strength and courage in what she has faced this past year. I reflect on the things I have faced this past year and compare it to her journey. I feel ashamed for some of the choices I have made. I feel weak in some of the areas I should have been stronger in. I tell myself I will be stronger at the moments of my life that I feel challenged by what I am facing. I will struggle, and I will fall, but I will succeed in my journey. I will honor the path of those that went before me. It was almost 45 minutes later and Grace was still resting peacefully. It is not often that I leave before Grace wakes up so we can say a proper good-bye, but she seemed so tired when we laid back to talk freely about what was on her mind. I pulled myself up off her bed and moved her to the center of it. She opened her eyes and smiled up at me. I bent over to kiss my angel on the cheek. She lifted her hand and extended her pinkie finger towards me without say a word. I took my pinkie and hugged hers with it. She closed her eyes and continued to rest as I made my way to the door. I stopped at the door and turned back to Grace as I reached inside my bag and pulled out a gift she would get when she woke up later in the afternoon. I laid it next to her along with another gift that was sure to get one of those girly scream out of her when she saw it.
I exited her room today with a big smile. I was already excited to visit her the next time, to see what she thought about the gifts I laid next to her. I walked to the room where her mother and my dad were waiting for me. "What is that smile about?" My dad asked. "I'm an awesome big brother." I replied. He put his arm around my shoulders as we walked away from the cancer center. His silence assured me I was not alone in that thought. I hoped Gracie felt the same way. If she did, I could cross that off my own bucket list.
