Hebrews 11:1
Today I held the boy who has cancer because we cranky. He was cranky because he was tired and he fell asleep in my lap. He was a distraction for me because in the stead of participating in worship I thought about him.
I thought about him loosing his fight. I thought about what it would be like to have to bury him. What would it be like when he was no longer smiling up at us when the little ones sang during chapel? How would I explain this to my students? How would I reconcile this to myself?
The Nursery teacher said to me as I filed my kids into the sanctuary before worship that she remembered all of my boys when they were tiny and, my, how they�d grown. He may never grow up. He may never be in my class and she�ll never say to me, �Look at Bobby, all grown up.� In seven years when the other boys have come upstairs for fourth and fifth grade and we�re filing into the sanctuary will the Nursery teacher and I notice him missing? Will his friends? I held back and watched her with the students. We don�t have many students but she�s has had them all. They all love her and she loves them. I felt bad for her as she boosted him into the pew. How much longer do we have you Bobby? What do we do while we still have you?
And, what if he were mine? Could I handle this? I don�t want my own children but for a passing moment I reconsidered getting married. I reconsidered the whole path of my life. I forgot Bobby and I thought about marriage. I forgot Bobby and I thought about children. Me with a wife and children, sitting with my own three year old in my lap, trying not to wake them as I popped a fifth grader in the back of the head for talking during the homily.
Then I remembered Bobby and I thought about those boys who died when I was first a teacher and how that crippled my heart. I remembered Bobby and I thought about my twin who was never born and that empty space. I wonder, does little sister who also lost her twin have that odd emptiness of knowing that someone else should be there but isn�t? I remembered Bobby and I thought about how much it hurts that I�ve lost people that I loved and only as their teacher. I remembered Bobby and I thought about the odd loneliness of the missing twin (then, my grandparents find it odd that I remain dangerously loyal to the sister that remains). I remembered Bobby and I thought about what it would be like when I had my own children and then lost them too. I remembered Bobby and reminded myself, "I cannot put myself in this position."
I thought about him winning his fight. I had to think that.
I spent the rest of the day depressed and trying not to be cranky. I plan. I forecast. I try to line everything up so anything I do comes off without a hitch. This not knowing puts me in such a bind.
I cleaned my house, that�s how I deal with this kind of thing. I clean. For those of you who live in Connecticut, I clean and I bake and I cook when I�m avoiding something. Need a bunt cake? Can I vacuum your sitting room? Can I do something that I have control over? Is there something that can take my mind off of this situation? Can I clean your house? I�ll take out the trash. Clean behind the fridge. I�ll fold the wash. I can do this. I cannot face this. What the hell is wrong with me?
