True to the Make-A-Wish tradition, Mitch had just thrown his coin into the wishing pond. I don’t know what he wished, but whatever it was, I hope he got it.
Everything seemed surreal back then. Mitch appeared so normal at the time and the effects of DMD were all but invisible to the untrained eye. We almost felt guilty going on a Make-a-Wish trip because he wasn’t profoundly sick … yet. But we saw the storm clouds on the horizon, we knew what was coming and decided to make the most of what strength he had. The decision to go when we did was a blessing in disguise.
After little Mitch threw his coin in the water I sat on the edge of the pond then grabbed my son and gave him a big hug and kiss. Wyatt wanted in on the love and I hugged and kissed him, too. Not a day passes that I don’t show and tell my kids how much I love them. Not a single day.
Mitch was a little overwhelmed by all that was happening. As far as he was concerned, he was pretty-much normal and he wondered why everyone was making such a fuss about him. But Mitch didn’t know what the doctors knew – that the path that lay at my son’s feet would soon become treacherous and one day his path would end.
When I was younger and envisioned my future, my heart wasn’t set on having a big home or fancy cars; I just wanted children to call my own. I wanted to be a father. I have had many professional titles in my life and none of them mean as much to me as father. I would sooner hear the word “Dad” from my children’s voices than any title or accolade the world could offer. I would give up everything I have if that meant I could be a father to Mitch for one more day.
There is a saying that goes: “the real measure of your wealth is how much you’d be worth if you lost all your money.” When I look at my wife and children I feel like I’m the wealthiest man on earth. And if love is a measure of real wealth, than I am rich indeed – and I will spend the rest of my life sharing my love in word and deed.
Last summer Ethan got a little motorcycle to tool around on. He loved the sport and his thoughtful mother arranged to surprise Ethan for his birthday. We did a great job selling Ethan that he’d never get one because it was too dangerous, etc. He had given up asking for one – which made the surprise all the sweeter. With the help of some amazing neighbors who helped source and assemble the motorcycle (thank you Seth Lloyd), Ethan had the surprise of his life.
Little Wyatt, who is now fast approaching the age of Mitch when he passed away, was so excited for his brother. Though he was anxious to enjoy a gift he never thought he’d get, Ethan looked at Wyatt’s big eyes and said, “Do you want a ride?” Wyatt smiled with delight as his older brother handed him his helmet. Carefully they drove down our cul-de-sac and as Wyatt carried with him an enormous grin. These are the kind of days parents live for. To see your child find joy is one thing, but to see your child give joy to another is altogether different. That is a satisfaction of a deeper sort. If I find deep joy in watching my own children love and lift another, how might our Father feel about us doing the same to each other?
Ethan has told me on several occasions that he wants to use the lessons he’s learned from his fallen brother to help others. At 14 years of age, he reads Mitchell’s Journey all the time and comes back to me with ideas, insights and self-discoveries. Sometimes I cry when I reflect on the things he says – for tender mercies abound.
Ethan has learned to put his arm around Wyatt like he did Mitch. Every day he is shaping his little brother through kindness and brotherly mentorship. Oh, they’re not perfect. They’re just like any young brothers who tease and fight – they take things too far and their arguments sometimes seem to go on too long. They both have their strengths and growth opportunities, like all of us do. But the point isn’t that they stumble, but rather how they get back up again. Their forgiveness isn’t conditional. I love that.
To young Wyatt, on this warm summer afternoon, his older brother was a super brother-turned superhero. He inspired me just as much as his little brother.
Anymore, I'm convinced motherhood is the greatest force in nature, for it wields the gentle power to shape human nature. #mitchellsjourney
About a week ago I was approached by a Mitchell's Journey follower who had something in common with our family. Her Charlie and our Mitchell were both students of a very special preschool teacher who was about to retire. Both of our children had also passed away.
So, yesterday Natalie and I attended a retirement banquet for this remarkable woman who played in important role in our son's life. She was a tender mercy for our boy as she helped him make a delicate transition to school. Mitch quickly grew in confidence because of the way she encouraged and guided him. We hadn't seen her for about 10 years so this was a special reunion. At her display table was a kind of memorial with photos of all of her students throughout her career - an evidence this woman was a remarkable teacher who loved her students. The best educators are the ones that teach with love of topic and student.
Next to the collage of former students was a larger panel with tributes to three of her special needs students who passed away, Mitch being one of them. It was a tender reunion filled with a lot of love and gratitude.
Here Natalie writes a note to "Mrs. Nancy" thanking her for being so kind and loving to our baby. We had never forgotten her and she clearly remembered little Mitch. When we moved from our first home a decade ago we thought we'd never cross paths with this remarkable teacher again. Fate, or providence, would have it otherwise.
It is interesting how at any given moment we might think a person in our lives a solitary, temporary thread ... unaware how woven our lives may become. The people and events in our lives make for a fascinating tapestry we may not appreciate, or even see, until deep in the twilight of our own lives.
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