Posts tagged Our Family Today
ALL THE FEELS

A few years ago, I marveled at how gracefully my young daughter carried her younger brother on her back. The waves were too big for Mitchell’s weakened muscles, and earlier that day, Mitch privately confided to me, almost with a whisper, “Dad, I’m afraid of being swept into the sea.” Laura-Ashley, sensing Mitch wanted to play with her, offered to help him so he could experience the ocean in the safety of her arms. This image, this tiny moment in time, fills my eyes with tears of gratitude.

It feels like yesterday she was carrying Mitch on her back. Now, my sweet little girl carries a child of her own, and soon, Natalie and I will become grandparents. My heart is bursting with joy for my sweet daughter and her loving husband.

About 13 years ago, I started collecting children’s books for my future grandkids. I have since taken them out of storage and started practicing my dramatic readings and homemade sound effects. I can’t wait to read to them - and more than that, I can't wait to feel their little heartbeats as they fall asleep in my arms.

More recently, over the last few months, I’ve had a brooding impression that a grandchild might be near; so much so, I was pointing out little baby clothes to Natalie with a kind of dreamy anticipation of being a grandfather one day. It’s difficult to describe how excited I am to love and hold my future grandkids.

Laura-Ashley graduates from nursing school in April and is expecting in May. I’m proud of her on so many levels. She works in hospice, and I am humbled by how she serves her people: with dignity and respect, of course … but also with personality and authenticity. She has a unique relationship with each of them, and she becomes a bright part of their day. I remember what Mitchell’s hospice nurse meant to Natalie and me, and to see our daughter become that for others is humbling. There is so much to love about my not-so-little girl: I admire how Laura-Ashley makes friends everywhere she goes, I giggle over her unusual description of things, I cherish her adorable sense of humor, and I love her tender heart.

Nobody ever told me how being a dad would feel, and I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything. Today, I’m overflowing with all the feels.


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IF I COULD SEND A POSTCARD

Photos are like postcards from a time long gone.

I’ll never forget this warm autumn evening when Luke put his arm around his best buddy and said, “I’m glad you’re my friend, Mitchell.” I was about to walk down the trail of our secret forest so they could play – but when I overheard them talk about video games and some new nerf war strategies, I lingered at the edge of the woods so I could listen to them dream without a care in the world. For a minute or two, the little boy in my heart sang and danced like an invisible ghost playing vicariously with them. Though not a child, for a moment, I wanted to be.

As a father, I smiled on the inside – knowing these two children were right where they were meant to be. None of us knew how soon Mitch would meet with catastrophe, and we had no idea how soon we’d have to say goodbye. That same arm wrapped around Mitchell’s neck in this photo would soon be stretched outward, holding his friend’s hand, barely conscious, as Mitch struggled to breathe. These two boys made of clay would have to face some very adult realities. The innocence of childhood soon rebuffed by their mortality.

When I took this photo, I had no idea the hell that soon awaited me. Neither did I imagine discovering some deep and beautiful treasures filled with light – treasures that can only be found in the darkest shadows of grief, even the pitch of night.

In the most curious of ways, Mitch and Luke’s paths seemed destined to intersect – and for as long as I live, I’ll thank heaven for connecting these two beautiful souls. At first, they seemed like ordinary boys that just happened to be neighbors. Soon, they went from casual friends to best friends. They were each other’s confidants and helpers. And in the blink of an eye, they became my teachers.

This past summer, I have spent a great deal of time in our secret forest building retaining walls by hand, cleaning up the trails, and turning that place into a quiet sanctuary for the soul. It has been a magical summer of healing, repairing, and growing. That tiny forest in our back yard has become a place to separate, meditate, and think deeply.

As I worked in the forest, I wondered what I might write Mitch, if I could send a postcard. Sometimes I write little cards in my heart and send them to the sky. “Hi Mitch, I miss you. You flutter in and out of my mind – soft as a moth – and oh, I wish you’d stay. What I would give to be with you, for just one more day.”

Sometimes, deep in my heart, it feels like he writes me back.

Sometimes.

There are other times I wonder what I’d write my younger self – knowing what I know now. Would I try to influence the choices I made and take a different path? Absolutely not. I would live my life again and again, even to infinity, so that I could know and love Mitch. Has his life brought me pain? Yes. But his existence was also beautiful. This young, broken boy has become my teacher—grief my tutor. Class has not ended for me, and I will be a student of love and grief until my days have ended, and I journey to that place beyond the hills.

Until that day, I will treasure these postcards from the past and look for the lessons buried in a potpourri of love and sorrow. In truth, I can’t wait to discover what I’ll learn tomorrow.


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MITCHELL'S JOURNEY GUEST ON PODCAST
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A Mitchell’s Journey reader-turned friend invited Chris to be a guest on her podcast. In this interview, you’ll hear his perspectives on Mitchell’s Journey, making sense of suffering, and the pursuit of meaning and purpose.

Chris Jones lives in Salt Lake City, Utah with his wife, Natalie and 3 living children. Their son, Mitchell Jones passed away from heart failure in 2013. He had Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, a catastrophic muscle wasting disease that is fatal.

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MITCHELL'S GRANDPUPPIES

When Mitch passed away, he left behind his puppy, Marlie, who at the time wasn’t much older than the furry kids in this video. Since then, Marie has become a tender mercy to our family in more ways than we can describe.

Last December, Marlie had puppies. In this video are 3 of her surviving pups and the father. Mitch would have loved this video. When he was young, he always did his homework quickly so he could watch a TV series called, Too Cute, which highlighted young animals who were trying to find their way in a big new world.

Mitch loved those videos because he identified with youth - and he loved anything that caused him to feel good on the inside. Natalie and I found this video and we looked at each other and said, almost simultaneously, “Mitch would have loved this.”

Mitch taught me to never waste a chance to smile. This video has me smiling so much, my face hurts.

If you’re into following cute animals, the little brown puppy was adopted by a family in Texas, who has been a friend to Mitchell’s Journey for years. His account is here: www.instagram.com/oliverdee_mitchellslegacy/

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