Thirteen Years Ago

Christmas Day 2004

December 21, 2004 will always hold these memories that I commemorate today:

On this day, Jacob remains (he first entered on December 8) at Children’s Hospital of Atlanta desperately in need of a new heart as his original flawed heart has worked diligently to continue his life but is giving its last heartbeats.

4:00am – we are awakened to a call in our parent’s sleeping cubicle that a heart has been located for Jacob.  Thinking we have several hours to wait for its arrival, I go get in the shower and Karen starts getting ready. Fifteen minutes later we get another call wondering where we were because they will begin prep work soon with Jacob and we won’t see him again before surgery (and terrible thoughts inevitably run through our minds as we scurry up to the floor).

5:30 am – We finish seeing Jacob, loving on him, comforting him, sharing his excitement, nervousness, and fear.  We say a word of prayer and watch him rolled through the doors, wondering ….

7:00 am – surgery begins and may take as long as 12 hours due to his scar tissue from previous surgeries.

12:25 pm – we get word that the new heart is in and beating!

3:15 pm – Dr. Kantor, his surgeon, meets with us to share that his original heart was on its last beats when surgery came and that the new heart was responding well. Then he shared what hurdles remain.

8:30 pm – Here is a copy of a CarePage entry describing our first look with Jacob:

A few minutes ago, Karen and I sat by the bed of Jacob. He was laid out on his back with tubes and wires running in and out and everywhere all over his body. If you stopped to listen, you would hear the rhythmic 'pssssst' of the ventilator and the bubbling of the pleurovac. You would have thought you were in some mad scientist's laboratory. But to us, it was a place of worship.

The emotions of the last twenty-four hours have drained us but everyone around us can see the relief on our faces. We are, indeed, relieved and grateful to be where we are.

• We know rough roads lie ahead but we know the divine Map maker.

• We know Jacob's new heart creates a delicate balance in his body (right now he is running a low-grade fever and his blood pressure needs to rise a few points to keep the doctors happy) but we know the Great Physician.

• We know financial demands must be met but our heavenly Father is the creator of all that is precious.

• We know there will be valleys in the future (near and far) but we will never let go of our Faithful Guide's hand.

Today was a day of excitement, exhilaration (I'll never forget the cheer from our crowded waiting room when Karen reported that the new heart was beating on its own), exhaustion, and exaltation of our God.

Many people have sent messages today, quoting words to various songs and hymns. I want to close by adding my own.
He is worthy, our Father, Creator
He is worthy, our Savior, Sustainer
He is worthy, worthy and wonderful
Worthy of worship and praise!

9:30 – A copy of another entry that exemplified Jacob’s spirit:

He is very much aware of what's going around him. Though, he can't speak because of the ventilator tube down his mouth and his hands are secured to restrict movement he is communicating his desires.

A doctor walked in with a cup of coffee in his hand. When Jacob saw it he pointed to it with his finger and stuck his tongue out. He was thirsty! The nurse said that if things go right tonight, they may take the tube out and he would be able to eat. I joked, "no hot wings yet," and Jacob snapped his finger as if to say, "oh, man!"
He has not lost his spirit! But pray that his spiritedness won't cause frustration as we can't understand a lot of his motions or he can't have all that he wants - like a coke!

What a joy he is! What a joy he gives!

Many of you who read this blog were with us in that waiting room or by your computers keeping up with our updates on that momentous day.  We could not have survived without the prayer and moral support we received throughout that day.

Thank you for being there thirteen years ago today … and every day since then.

We celebrate this day and miss him every day.

No Need to Pray for Me

I hate to admit it but often that blasphemous thought “no need to pray for me” runs through my mind.  Before you go off and begin praying (despite my wishes) for my salvation or write me off as an unappreciative heretic, let me try to explain what is running through my demented mind.

Many of you read my entries into this blog and you see my assorted and scattered thoughts that I put to writing and post on Facebook.  They tend to revolve around how Karen and I (along with Ben, Beth, and Katie) are managing after the death of Jacob (our son and brother).  They are often maudlin and depressing to the reader, especially to one that hasn’t experienced the depth of pain that we are expressing.  Our verbalization of our pain is usually compared to a scab being ripped off an old injury and our recounting of such an experience that pricks our heart can often become uncomfortable to the reader.

Frequently, the reader will express their love and concern for us by responding with a well intended “I’m praying for you.”

Well, I’m going to be brutally honest right now …. Please don’t.  As harsh as it sounds, I don’t need your prayers. 

Before you walk off saying, “Well, I never! That ungrateful cur!” let me explain.

As a minister and as a Christian, I know the value and power of prayer.  I will admit that I have struggled with how our use of prayer is sometimes misguided.  But I know God relishes our communication with Him and our acknowledgment of His sovereignty.  So please understand I am not seeking an abstinence from the use of prayer in our lives.

Let me try to accurately articulate my reason for this seemingly bizarre request.  Often, when we say to someone “I’ll pray for you” it is much more akin to the dreaded southern expression “Bless your heart” (interpreted "you poor thing").  Let me be clear, I’m not seeking anyone’s pity.

Another interpretation I generally have from the phrase “I’m praying for you” is “I hope you get better soon” or “I hope you can get over this”.  Grief is not a disease with a cure.  You don’t get over it.  And honestly, I don’t want to get over it!  Grief is and forever will be a part of me.  I’ve been told I am now ‘damaged goods.’ I have been forever altered.  I’ve heard the pain of grieving compared to an amputation.  You are now missing an integral part of your body.  I’ve read that amputees often have sympathetic pain where they still feel a tingling where that missing limb would still be attached.  They reach out for it and then are reminded of the present reality that it is no longer there.

As painful as these flashbacks and reminders are, I do not want to “get over” my loss of Jacob. I do not want to “move on” and forget about him.  He was and still is an integral part of my life.  I love the remembrances I have of him, even though they are frequently shrouded in grief, pain, and tears.

So, please, don’t say “I’m praying for you” in that manner.  

But I do value your friendship and your concern.  I don’t want to lose that.  I also appreciate the relationship that many of you had with Jacob and the impact you had on his life.  So here’s what I prefer you to say to me (and I will speak for others who would make this request):

“Thank you for allowing me to share in this experience with you.”

“I miss him too”

"What a precious memory to hold on to. Thanks for including me."

"Your love for him is so evident."

“Thank you for being so transparent.  It means you trust me.”

“Thanks for sharing this. I love to hear stories about him.”

“I love you, my friend.”

“I have had a similar experience.  Let’s get together and share stories.”

“He holds a special place in my heart as well.”

“I wish I could have known him. He sounds like such a special person.”

“Thanks for sharing your heart.”

In closing, here are two quotes from famous people who know the ever present pain of grief.  They eloquently express the value of sharing our hurting hearts about the pain of losing a loved one with our loved ones and the holy communion it creates between the two parties.

“If you know someone who has lost a child or lost anybody who’s important to them, and you’re afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died … they didn’t forget they died. You’re not reminding them. What you’re reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that’s a great, great gift.” – Elizabeth Edwards

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.” ~ Washington Irving