Each day this week, my heart has grown a little heavier. The things that have plagued David intermittently in the past seem to be here to stay now. The nausea that was once controlled with IV meds now seems to break through more and more frequently. The pain meds that helped control his leg pain are not as effective, and the pain has started to radiate to different areas. He’s not in constant pain, and the nausea can still be controlled, but it saps more and more of his strength each day.
When David was in 5th grade, he rode his bicycle across California with his class. They each chose a word to write on their helmet to be their mantra for the week. David chose “strength”. At the time, looking at this skinny, little boy, I thought it was an odd choice. But now I know what he knew even then. He has an inner strength that most of us will never even come close to.
Today, I watched as a nurse, who has known him for only a few days, bent to kiss his cheek and tell him she loved him. And I believe she does. She has only seen a tiny part of the person he is, and even that little bit was enough to inspire her love and loyalty.
There are some people in this world that you just instantly like. David is one of those people. I know that when he leaves us, Heaven will be rejoicing. And they should. He is an awesome person. There is comfort in knowing that. As tight as I would hold him, Jesus will hold him tighter. And I will grieve – mightily – but not for David. I will grieve for those of us left behind. The world will be a dimmer place.