Last night I spoke to a woman's organization about Mitchell's Journey. I was asked to speak several months ago by a woman whose name was both familiar and unfamiliar to me. I didn't connect the dots until last night when she started talking to me as I was setting up my computer. She said, "My daughter is Sage, Mitchell's friend." Suddenly everything came back to me and I remembered meeting them at Mitchell's funeral. It took a great deal of effort to hold back my tears. While there was already a great deal of love in my heart, it began to burst at the seams.
Their theme for the night was entitled "Some Extraordinary Women" so I focused my address on the amazing women who were part of Mitchell's Journey and the impact their love and service had on our family. From the meatloaf story, to paper hearts and yellow ribbons, there were so many amazing women who stepped up and offered love and comfort.
I also spoke about the special relationship between Natalie and her sister, Sonya, and how they were a special gift to each other ... but most especially Mitch. Each story I shared drew focus to the extraordinary women in my life and the incredible blessings that came as a result of them and their selfless service.
I recorded audio of the event and will try to post it soon. At one point during my time with these extraordinary women I said I was convinced women are the most powerful force in nature. With all that I am, I believe that is true.
I then shared a quote by Neal Maxwell that read: "When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sounds of lullabies?"
In my estimation, women have more influence on the affairs of this world than society at large appreciates.
After my address I was blessed to meet some of these remarkable women with whom I spoke. Natalie also spent time visiting with everyone and I looked upon my wife with continued admiration for the good, tender and loving woman she is. I loved the spirit of love that was felt in that room.
Earlier that night I was made aware that a woman in the audience lost her son almost 18 years ago. She sat kindly at a chair as I knelt down to visit with her. I could see a depth in her eyes that seemed to speak of the long journey of grief and healing she's experienced. After a few moments of visiting she pulled from her purse a framed photo of her lovely son. My heart swelled with compassion and love for her and her son. I hugged her and told her that I cared. I hope she felt it, because I meant it.
There, too, was an extraordinary woman ... a mother who loves her son deeply and will never forget him. The thought occurred to me that as long as love last, grief lasts.
With each passing day, I think I'm beginning to better understand our journey moving forward. While our journey was borne of sorrow it has become a journey of hope, healing and finding happiness.
There is so much we hope to do with Mitchell's Journey - so many ways we want to lift and help others. We hope to see you in person or virtually as we have our third annual Miles for Mitchell on April 25th.
www.raceentry.com/race-reviews/miles-for-mitchell
Mitchell’s last Nerf gun battle lasted 2 minutes. Just as his war game was beginning to unfold, he leaned against the wall about to pass out while taking very shallow breaths. With a whisper in his ear, “I love you”, Natalie lifted our son in her arms and gently took him back to his room. Mitchell looked off into the distance with his arms softly wrapped around his mom.
We knew there wasn't much time to play. So, just prior to the Nerf battle, Natalie made haste and quickly tore a piece of fabric from one of her dresses to make a headband – to show little Mitch she was “all in”.
As I followed them back to Mitchell’s room, my heart swelled with a love and sadness that to this day I cannot find words to describe. In her arms was our dying son who just wanted to be a little boy.
Mitchell would never leave his room alive.
During his time at home Mitchell received hand-written letters and packages from all manner of military officers who were serving all over the world – some in hostile theatres. They had been following Mitch and wanted him to know they were inspired by his courage and strength. Some even said it was for him they fought. One of the tender ironies was Mitchell loved the military and was so touched they would even think to write him. Call of Duty was one of his favorite games and, for a 10 year old, he had a brilliant tactical mind. Upon reading some of these letters from Marines, Mitchell would ask me “Dad, do they really think I’m strong?” I turned to my son and said, “Son, in every way that matters you are as strong as they get, and I am so proud of you.” His brow furrowed as he began to think deeply on my words.
Mitchell was so tired and listless at the time, but I continued, “Let me tell you why I think you’re as strong as people get: real strength is doing the right thing when nobody is looking … and you have always done that. You are trustworthy and obedient and good. I am so proud to call you my son. Strength, the kind of strength that matters, isn't found in the body, but in the soul. And Mitch, you have a very strong soul. I love you so much.” I kissed his forehead and he lifted his arm around my neck to hug. If only I could have frozen time …
Within 24 hours of this photo little Mitch would gaze out his window for the last time and contemplate his life and accept the harsh reality of his death. This young warrior, who was mortally wounded by an invisible enemy, demonstrated one of the highest forms of strength and selflessness by telling his mom he was going to be okay.
Having lost my son to a biological enemy that knows no ransom, has no mercy, and offers no remission … I have decided to take up arms against this enemy of the body: to fight Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy with all that I am. This is a battle worth fighting because little boys like mine deserve to live - and any family is at risk.
I have been taught that if we turn to God, weak things can become strong things; that God gives us weaknesses so we can become humble, and if we turn to Him in our weaknesses, God will make weak things become strong things. That is one of the reasons we are given hardships in this life. Today, I have more weaknesses than I have strengths but I hope, in time, I can become as strong as my little son.
There have been agonizing moments, while stumbling in the pitch darkness of grief and loss that my soul has cried out “if anyone deserved to live, it was my son”, and that I should have been taken instead. Then a whisper to my soul reminded me death is not punishment, but rather a transition from one state of being to another. I was reminded of an 18th Century philosopher who said “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.”
The purpose of life: a masterfully calculated landscape of hardship, happiness and putting trust in things that are invisible to the eye but discerned spiritually … all in an effort to refine our souls. And while the world seems in a constant state of unrest and war … I find myself ever more concerned about the quiet battles of the soul … the kind of battles that destroy us from within. Those, too, are battles worth fighting – and fighting well.
On Saturday we attended an MDA Muscle walk. I was so moved to see families of all kinds desperately trying to help the fight against muscular dystrophy.
On one level, it was difficult to be there because we wanted our son to be with us and we were reminded he wasn’t. On the other hand it was wonderful to be there because we met some families we have long wanted to meet. In fact, we’re going to spotlight one of those families at our Miles for Mitch Virtual Run on April 25th. If you haven’t yet, please consider joining our run virtually or in person: https://www.raceentry.com/race-reviews/miles-for-mitchell
You can learn about our goals for our virtual run here: http://tinyurl.com/mtj84pb
We didn’t need to be there – but we chose to be there because we care very much about these families who hurt and struggle. Our hearts were full of love and compassion for these kind families who face an uncertain and difficult future.
Natalie's sister, Sonya, also came with us to show her support. She was Mitchell's second mother and loved him as if he were her own.
At the end of the run Wyatt turned to his mom and said, “Going to this really made my day.” I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about how much Wyatt cares about others and only wants to honor his older brother by loving and supporting others.
I remember the morning Mitch passed away when I wrote "Mitchell's Journey is not over: it has only just begun ... in this life and the life after."
Two years later I am here to say that statement is as true today as it was then.
Mitchell's Journey is just getting started. This journey, while borne of grief and sorrow has morphed into a journey of love, faith and a hope for tomorrow. It's not my journey, I've come to see, its the journey of humanity - which is, indeed, a heavenly family.
I read your messages and I weep for your sorrows. Often, I fall to my knees in gratitude when I read your words of renewed faith and healing. All of you are so amazing. I read your messages and I wish I could respond personally to all of them, but cannot. However, you are all in my prayers, that your backs may be strengthened and burdens feel light .... and for those who walk in darkness, that you'll see an end to the night.
I've been out of town most of this week on business and landed in Salt Lake early this morning, then drove straight to the office.
On my drive home tonight all I could think about was how excited I was to see my little family. I miss them a great deal. On my way home I stopped by to see Mitch and saw that Natalie had changed his flowers.
I was brought to tears to think how much his mommy cares about him and how she tries to love and serve him even though he is gone. She remembers the smallest details, including little birds that Mitch adored, in her arrangements.
Dressing up Mitchell's headstone is one of her grief rituals, and I adore her for it.
D