True to my word to Grace, I decided to stop in to see her on Monday, whereas, our usual interview/visiting day was on Wednesdays. The last time I was here to visit her, was last Wednesday. It was the day she met my dad, Jake. Prior to going to the cancer center we had gone to a retail store to purchase gifts for Grace. My dad had given her four different Barbie doll outfits, two for each of the dolls she always brought with her when she received her treatments. When Grace fell to sleep on that visit, I placed next to her two gifts from myself, so when she woke up, she would see them, and think of me.
In one of our prior visits Grace introduced me to her dolls, Linda (the mom doll) and Jenny (the daughter doll). More than once when I visited her, she wanted to play Barbie dolls, and being a real man, I always did. Whenever we played with her dolls, she always talked about boyfriends, girlfriends, marriage, and having a family. Grace knew she would never experience any of these relationships, although she dreamed of one day becoming a bride. The typical fantasy wedding with lots pretty dresses, flowers that filled a church, beautiful songs being song, surrounded by friends and family that filled the building to full capacity. Memories would be made. Cards and cash would be given, gifts would be offered. Daddy would walk her up the aisle to the man she would spend the rest of her days with. Mommy would cry, because her little girl was moving on, starting another chapter in her life. Smiles. Tears. Hugs.
When I arrived, unannounced and unexpected on this day, Grace immediately said “Oh Jett, thank you for my gifts. Now Linda can have a husband and Jenny can have a daddy. She loves her wedding dress you brought her!” I knew she would like the gifts, and it made me smile. I could see she had been playing with her dolls as they were laying on the pillow, next to hers. She did not hesitate to introduce me to George, the new husband to Linda. “George?” I asked. “Yes, like your friend you call Geo that I met at your house.” I shake my head, now not only do I have to be the ‘husband’ when we play barbies, I have to be ‘George’. I ask. “Why George? The least you could do is call him Jett.” She informs me that he cannot be Jett, because I am Jett, and you cannot play yourself in barbies.” Girls and their fantasy dolls. I would just have to get used to being George when she decided she wanted to play dolls.
“You do not have your bag with you today, did you lose it?” She asked. “No Grace, I am not here to interview you today. I wanted to stop by and just tell you hi and that I was thinking about you.”
“So we will not be talking about my journey today?” She asked very puzzling. “Not today Grace, we can just talk about whatever. I can read a book to you if you would like. Or we can just sit here and have a stare down.”
“Well I do not know what to say if we are not working on my story Jett.” I tell her. “Grace, every minute of your life is your journey. Ever second of your day is your story. What we do today is still your journey but we can relax and just talk about anything and everything. Like friends do.”
She smiles, and I know it is because she likes the thought of friendships. Many people in her life prior to learning that she had cancer and while the outlook at first was positive, she would not live to be nine, have left from her life. Even though that is her goal, to turn nine, the months they gave her to live were now narrowed down to weeks. I could see it in each visit, that it has taken its toll on her tiny body very quickly. Since she has told her parents she wishes to have no more surgeries to remove tumors in her head, and just use treatments to shrink them, the quality of her life has lessened, and the quantity of her life is closing in. I watched this with my brother, who at the age of 24 died of lung cancer. You can see the signs of life on earth fading away as the strength to fight it fades along with it.
“I wish I had as many friends as you have. When you get married, the church will be filled with all kinds of friends.” I feel bad for Grace, that more people did not choose to stand by her while she goes through this. Her friend base has become the nurses that care for her, the doctors that try to make the remainder of her life comfortable, her parents, an uncle, and a neighbor that Grace thinks is so nice because she does not drive but will pay a taxi to bring her up to visit her for a whole day. “It’s not the number of friends that you have Grace, it’s the amount of love you share with them.” “I am happy we are friends.” She says. “Me too.” I tell her.
We talk about a lot of things on this visit. We walked to the waiting area and shared a juice. We read a story together, Grace a page, me a page. When we got to the last page, Grace read a word, and I read a word. Back and forth, laughing at yourselves. We colored in her big Disney coloring book. We exhausted ourselves, having all that fun, as if neither one of us had a care in the world. These are the days I will treasure the most, the ones where she is all smiles, all kid, doing kid things, and forgetting about how as an eight year old, she is in her adult life.
Grace asks me to lay with her until she falls asleep. We did this often, and very few times did I leave until she woke up from her nap. I told myself I would rest with her until she was well rested, and maybe we could share a snack and a drink before I left for the day. When Grace napped, she laid on her back, closed her eyes and was face up to the ceiling. Peaceful slumber. I envied her for that, because I often had sleepless nights as I would lay awake and relive my day, and plan my next. Trying to fit as much life into my days as I could muster. I was now thinking about Grace and her fantasy wedding. I could not help hearing her words echo in my mind.
“I will have on the prettiest dress of anyone. There will be lots of flowers. The church will be full of my friends and family. My daddy will walk in the aisle with me and my mommy will cry knowing I will not be living in her house anymore. I will get lots of cards with money in them. My daddy will give me to the boy who I will live with forever. There will be lots of music to listen to. Lots of happy memories will follow me.”
I find myself wondering if Grace knew she was describing to me the day her friends and family would lay her to rest on earth, and she would enter into her eternal life with God. I am positive not many people, when planning the chapter of marriage in their lives, think about how they could be planning the final chapter they will have on earth. I wondered if those of us not in the position that Grace is in, stop to think about how similar a wedding is to a funeral. Both celebrations end a chapter in our journery, as it starts a new chapter.
“My daddy will give me to the boy who I will live with forever.”
“My daddy will let go of me so I can live an eternal life with God forever.”
I leave Grace today as she rests peacefully on earth. I leave a note next to her that she will find when she wakes up. “I love you Amazing Grace. Your friend Jett”
In one of our prior visits Grace introduced me to her dolls, Linda (the mom doll) and Jenny (the daughter doll). More than once when I visited her, she wanted to play Barbie dolls, and being a real man, I always did. Whenever we played with her dolls, she always talked about boyfriends, girlfriends, marriage, and having a family. Grace knew she would never experience any of these relationships, although she dreamed of one day becoming a bride. The typical fantasy wedding with lots pretty dresses, flowers that filled a church, beautiful songs being song, surrounded by friends and family that filled the building to full capacity. Memories would be made. Cards and cash would be given, gifts would be offered. Daddy would walk her up the aisle to the man she would spend the rest of her days with. Mommy would cry, because her little girl was moving on, starting another chapter in her life. Smiles. Tears. Hugs.
When I arrived, unannounced and unexpected on this day, Grace immediately said “Oh Jett, thank you for my gifts. Now Linda can have a husband and Jenny can have a daddy. She loves her wedding dress you brought her!” I knew she would like the gifts, and it made me smile. I could see she had been playing with her dolls as they were laying on the pillow, next to hers. She did not hesitate to introduce me to George, the new husband to Linda. “George?” I asked. “Yes, like your friend you call Geo that I met at your house.” I shake my head, now not only do I have to be the ‘husband’ when we play barbies, I have to be ‘George’. I ask. “Why George? The least you could do is call him Jett.” She informs me that he cannot be Jett, because I am Jett, and you cannot play yourself in barbies.” Girls and their fantasy dolls. I would just have to get used to being George when she decided she wanted to play dolls.
“You do not have your bag with you today, did you lose it?” She asked. “No Grace, I am not here to interview you today. I wanted to stop by and just tell you hi and that I was thinking about you.”
“So we will not be talking about my journey today?” She asked very puzzling. “Not today Grace, we can just talk about whatever. I can read a book to you if you would like. Or we can just sit here and have a stare down.”
“Well I do not know what to say if we are not working on my story Jett.” I tell her. “Grace, every minute of your life is your journey. Ever second of your day is your story. What we do today is still your journey but we can relax and just talk about anything and everything. Like friends do.”
She smiles, and I know it is because she likes the thought of friendships. Many people in her life prior to learning that she had cancer and while the outlook at first was positive, she would not live to be nine, have left from her life. Even though that is her goal, to turn nine, the months they gave her to live were now narrowed down to weeks. I could see it in each visit, that it has taken its toll on her tiny body very quickly. Since she has told her parents she wishes to have no more surgeries to remove tumors in her head, and just use treatments to shrink them, the quality of her life has lessened, and the quantity of her life is closing in. I watched this with my brother, who at the age of 24 died of lung cancer. You can see the signs of life on earth fading away as the strength to fight it fades along with it.
“I wish I had as many friends as you have. When you get married, the church will be filled with all kinds of friends.” I feel bad for Grace, that more people did not choose to stand by her while she goes through this. Her friend base has become the nurses that care for her, the doctors that try to make the remainder of her life comfortable, her parents, an uncle, and a neighbor that Grace thinks is so nice because she does not drive but will pay a taxi to bring her up to visit her for a whole day. “It’s not the number of friends that you have Grace, it’s the amount of love you share with them.” “I am happy we are friends.” She says. “Me too.” I tell her.
We talk about a lot of things on this visit. We walked to the waiting area and shared a juice. We read a story together, Grace a page, me a page. When we got to the last page, Grace read a word, and I read a word. Back and forth, laughing at yourselves. We colored in her big Disney coloring book. We exhausted ourselves, having all that fun, as if neither one of us had a care in the world. These are the days I will treasure the most, the ones where she is all smiles, all kid, doing kid things, and forgetting about how as an eight year old, she is in her adult life.
Grace asks me to lay with her until she falls asleep. We did this often, and very few times did I leave until she woke up from her nap. I told myself I would rest with her until she was well rested, and maybe we could share a snack and a drink before I left for the day. When Grace napped, she laid on her back, closed her eyes and was face up to the ceiling. Peaceful slumber. I envied her for that, because I often had sleepless nights as I would lay awake and relive my day, and plan my next. Trying to fit as much life into my days as I could muster. I was now thinking about Grace and her fantasy wedding. I could not help hearing her words echo in my mind.
“I will have on the prettiest dress of anyone. There will be lots of flowers. The church will be full of my friends and family. My daddy will walk in the aisle with me and my mommy will cry knowing I will not be living in her house anymore. I will get lots of cards with money in them. My daddy will give me to the boy who I will live with forever. There will be lots of music to listen to. Lots of happy memories will follow me.”
I find myself wondering if Grace knew she was describing to me the day her friends and family would lay her to rest on earth, and she would enter into her eternal life with God. I am positive not many people, when planning the chapter of marriage in their lives, think about how they could be planning the final chapter they will have on earth. I wondered if those of us not in the position that Grace is in, stop to think about how similar a wedding is to a funeral. Both celebrations end a chapter in our journery, as it starts a new chapter.
“My daddy will give me to the boy who I will live with forever.”
“My daddy will let go of me so I can live an eternal life with God forever.”
I leave Grace today as she rests peacefully on earth. I leave a note next to her that she will find when she wakes up. “I love you Amazing Grace. Your friend Jett”
