Faces - part 1

Today, Richard and I went to church. This is significant because we both actually made it through the service without falling apart. It is hard for us to go and sit and not think of Jacob being there, sitting in his spot in the balcony, singing with his arms stretched up to heaven. Jacob loved, I mean, LOVED to sing. He liked hymns, choruses, contemporary songs, you name it. Unfortunately, he had a terrible voice. He used to be able to sing fairly well, but over the last few years of his life, he was intubated (had a breathing tube inserted) so many times, that he had damage to his vocal chords. We even took him to a voice therapist for awhile to see if it was repairable, but this did not do much good. He also took so many different medicines that had to have affected his voice. Also, he inherited his mother's love of music, but terrible vocal chords.

Anyway, he loved to sing so much and this was what helped him through some difficult years in middle school and high school. He was in chorus during those years and that helped him find his group of friends. The funny thing, or rather sort of sad thing, was that during his last few years in high school, his voice was so damaged, that he had to lip-synch the words when he was singing in chorus.

A very sweet memory I have of Jacob was when the McEachern chorus was presenting their Christmas concert. The students were wearing their robes and standing in the aisles singing a very solemn song in either Latin or Italien. Jacob was standing near us, facing the stage, not aware that we were sitting nearby. The auditorium was dark, filled with students, parents and many others.  This would have been his senior year, the Christmas after Jacob's first transplant. I just remember being filled with so much love, gratitude and guilt watching my son mouth the words to this song. Love - for my child, who had endured so much pain this past year and was alive to see another Christmas. Gratitude - for the chance to celebrate another Christmas with him and also to the family who were willing to allow their loved one to be a heart donor. Guilt - because I had my son with me and the donor family did not - deep down inside I lived with the fact that someone's child had to die so that my son could live. This was something I never took for granted.

So, back to why I called this post "Faces - part 1." When Richard and I try to go to church, we have different faces. Mine is one that is numb. I cannot sing or participate in the service. It takes all the energy I have just to be there and speak to people. When the congregation sings, I just stand and can't even mouth the words, like Jacob used to do. Richard is able to participate more, but he has a hard time during the singing, especially the songs that Jacob liked. It is so different standing next to Richard now during a worship service. He has a wonderful voice and I have always loved to stand next to him and hear him sing. Now, he is silent, often trying to control tears.

Well, this is not all I want to say about Faces - but I must go. I must go to a funeral visitation for a teacher friend. I know that her face will be one of grief, as she has lost both of her parents this year. My heart hurts for her.