I interacted with an incredible kid recently at the House. Innocent and respectful, he was not intimidated by authority and extremely kind to all he encountered. I think this interaction sums it up: when meeting him at hospice with his mom, who was dying with cancer, he interrupted my solemn conversation to ask if we had any microwaves in the room to pop his marsh-mellow topped popcorn that he just couldn’t wait to eat.
As we interacted over the next days, I began to compile a list of things he’d gone through that seemed absolutely unfair.
No kid should have a mom be diagnosed with cancer
No kid should have to stay up all night walking her up and down their stairs at home, at least 20 times, because she’s too restless to know any better.
No kid should have to watch his mom swing at the air and shove people away from delirium
No kid should have to experience telling their mom “I love you” only to hear “I hate you” back with a blank unknowing stare; even if it is the liver failure causing her to be out of her mind.
No kid should have to wake up every hour of the night to look at the clock and wonder if his mother was still alive.
No kid should have to sit at the bedside of his dying mother, wondering why she made strange sounds, why her feet were blue and whether she could still hear him say “don’t go”.
I wish my list ended here. But tragically I must add:
No kid should go through all that, have a mother die, and then 36 hours later have his father die to.
