I learned something today that my Father did for my son. Another tender mercy.
A woman and her husband had moved into our neighborhood not long before Mitch went into heart failure. She heard that other families in my neighborhood were preparing meals for our family to offer some much needed relief. She didn't know the circumstances of our family and that little Mitch was sick and dying.
Because preparing meals for families in crisis is customary in my culture, she was no stranger to this form of service and quickly volunteered to bring dinner over one evening. Over the years she had discovered a kind of universal meal that every family seemed to enjoy. As she was making preparations for that same meal for our family, she had an impression to do something different. At first she ignored it. The more she ignored it, the stronger the impression came. Finally, the impression was so strong she could no longer deny it and knew what to make. Meatloaf.
Not knowing our family, she was nervous about how such a seemingly ordinary meal might be received. She knocked on our door and handed Natalie a variety of dishes that contained meatloaf and other things. We would have been grateful for a sleeve of crackers. Or just a hug.
What this good woman didn't know … couldn't know at the time … was meatloaf was one of Mitchell’s favorite dishes. Because his organs were beginning to fail, he wasn't eating much those days – but when he heard someone brought meatloaf over, he wanted to eat. Natalie lifted him up from his bed and carefully helped him to the kitchen table. Mitch ate like a king that night. Not only was it a treat for him, that same meal gave his beleaguered body much needed nourishment … nourishment that gave us a little more time with our son.
When this good woman shared her experience with members of our church today, my wife and I were in tears. We had no idea.
What a profound gift. My heart is overflowing with gratitude to think that a loving Father who knew Mitch was running out of time would inspire this good woman to do something that was out of the ordinary for her, so my son could find a little comfort.
If He did that for Mitch, sight unseen, I wonder what He is doing for all of us at this very moment. There is so much more to our lives than meets the eye.
Perhaps when we look back on our lives, from that place that feels so far away, the events we experienced through darkness will be made light as noon day. Then, and perhaps only then, it will finally be seen … the times we felt most alone, we in fact walked with heavenly beings.
I remember gently waking my daughter, who was deep asleep, to let her know her little brother passed away. You know those rare moments in life that you remember with vivid detail? The smells, the color of light, the layout of a room, and exactly what you were doing at that very moment something big happened … those details of life that seem to crystallize in your mind. Forever. I remember, as a young boy, exactly where I was when I heard the space shuttle Challenger exploded. I don’t remember anything else that happened that year … not like I remember that moment. I just remember crying as a young boy because I knew people were hurting over such a loss.
Well, this night was one of those moments I will never forget. “Ash” I said with a whisper. She arose instantly, as if her body and soul knew something terrible had happened, “I’m so sorry, but Mitch passed away.” No sooner had I uttered those words than her eyes gushed with tears as she fell back to her pillow and wept.
Laura-Ashley faithfully loved and served her little brother and they had developed a deep bond between them. I marveled how she balanced softness with strength – a testament that we, being human, are quite capable of being both. On the one hand she would speak ever-so tenderly with Mitch and you could tell she listened with her heart as much as her ears. At the same time she would carry her not-so-little brother on her back with ease. She was strong, yet tender … a beautiful blend of attributes I long to possess.
I took this photo on the California coast while on our last summer adventure with Mitch. He loved the ocean and was fascinated by the power of waves. At this time in his life Mitch couldn't play in the ocean by himself because even the smallest wave would knock him helplessly over. Where smaller children could play in the splash and froth of the ocean’s edge, those same waters were more punishing for him. Even the smallest wave threatened to knock him over. Any prolonged exposure to even moderately deep water, causing him to adapt to the ebb and flow of the current, would tire his muscles quickly and he would most certainly drown if left to his own strength.
Laura-Ashley, this beautifully kind sister, sensing little Mitch wanted to experience the ocean again, heaped her brother on her back and began walking into the water. Mitch laughed and squealed as the waves rolled by and tickled his feet. It occurred to me at this moment, in ways it hadn't before, that there’s something very special about a sister.
As I photographed them playing I remember being washed over by waves of love and gratitude for my daughter and my son. Of all the world’s greatest riches, none compared to the treasure of this moment with my children. They were a gift to each other, and their love was awesome to see. Love, after all, is the substance of life and the fabric of eternity.
When I look at my own life experience, it seems to me that sisters and mothers seem to balance out fathers and brothers.
I don’t know what it is, exactly. I only know the world is richer because it is filled with loving sisters.
A dear friend of mine I met on #mitchellsjourneyalways runs (and he runs a lot) with an image of my son on his shirt. Though we are a world apart and our language and cultures are different, I love this man like a brother.
He just ran a half marathon in Tel Aviv in memory of Mitch and sent this photo and kind message that Mitch is never far from his heart.
Two years later, he remembers my son.
One day, I would love to meet him in person.
Not long after our son passed away a compassionate follower of Mitchell’s Journey asked me for a sample of Mitchell’s handwriting. She had been following our story and felt compelled to give my dear wife something to comfort her weary heart. This is what she made - exactly as Mitch wrote it on paper just a few months prior. This kind woman, now friend, carefully mailed it to me so we could surprise Natalie for Mother’s Day. I offered to pay her for her kindness but she insisted on giving it to my wife as a gift from her heart.
When Natalie looked upon this for the first time her eyes filled with tears because she recognized Mitchie’s handwriting.
This little memento is an echo of Mitchell’s love for his mother. I’m forever grateful for this kind woman, this Good Samaritan, who felt after my grief-stricken wife on the edge of a broken road. Katelynne didn't need to do or say anything, but she did anyway … and her little act of love did a lot.
This is her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SugarplumsJewelry
When Natalie wears this necklace, she often looks at it as if to look upon her son, or at least a breadcrumb he left behind … evidence this little boy lived and loved his mommy.
I’m grateful for this Good Samaritan who took the time to stop; who reached out with a little love and helped my wife a lot.