Friday, July 31, 2009

July 31 Last Year 2008

Thursday July 31 2008

Lydia spent the day at home. We all four went to the wading pool all afternoon - from 2-5 pm. Just held Harry and enjoyed the sun, blue sky, clouds and watching Lydia swim and play.

Cathy and Dr. Stoffman came by the house in the morning. Examined Harry and gave him a new feeding tube. They are trying to be supportive and are in their own way - but for them this narrative has only one ending.

Feeding Harry with carrot juice continues. Harry is getting better at taking his homeopathic medicine by mouth.

Lydia's most beautiful thing - for all three of us - was spending the afternoon together at the wading pool.


July 31 2009

Harry was really very weak by this time. He was really sleeping most of the time, though he would always perk up and sit up to wave to the Number 10 bus as it went by our house. He just slept in my arms all afternoon by the pool. Well, I should say, Henry and I took turns holding him and alternatively playing with Lydia in the wading pool. I sat in a lawn chair and just held him and told him over and over how much I loved him.

Always, those last two weeks, when I held him, I whispered to him, "You are so strong, you are so brave, my love, you can do it".

In my mind I was telling him he was strong and brave enough to get through the homeopathic detox and beat his cancer.

But I think I was telling him that he was strong and brave enough to jump to the other side when he needed to, when it got to be too much for him and he couldn't stay with us any longer. That he was strong and brave enough to just jump. And he did, but that story is to come.

When Dr. Stoffman and Cathy came by the house, they gave us a letter. It hardly registered at the time. Cathy came with me to the kitchen and handed me the letter. The letter was an official form from Harry's oncologist for the City coroner. It stated that he was expected to die at home very soon, and that an inquest was not needed when he did. Cathy is an amazing woman. She is one of the paediatric oncology nurses and she always knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make you feel better. She managed to give me this letter and explain what it was, but in such a gentle way. Nonetheless, I don't think I really understood what it was. She said to pull it out only when we needed it but to put it away and forget about it until then.

I remember looking at it. There it was in black and white, "Hendrik Venema is expected to die at home of primary rhabdoid tumor of the liver very soon". Signed and dated by Harry's oncologist.

I read the letter and cried and said to Cathy something like, "He can't die, not my baby, I can't lose him, he has to beat this. I don't know how but he has to. I can't give up hope". Cathy had tears in her eyes too and she gave me a big hug.

I was angry too, that they had given up on Harry. But I know they were just doing their jobs to the very best of their abilities.

I put the letter away on the desk in the dining room.

I can't tell you how much it broke my heart to be given that letter and see it in black and white. Hendrik Venema is expected to die at home very soon. But still I didn't believe it.

I believed then and I still believe now that miracles are possible. That we can jump from one path to another in an instant and jump from sickness to health. We are not matter, we are energy. Thoughts, intentions, move energy. Our intentions can heal. But I also believe that we are born into this life with a life mission. And Harry's life mission was to come for a short time, to touch many, many lives, to drop off a whole lot of love, and then to return to God. His life was exactly what it was meant to be.

It was a gift from God. He was a gift from Heaven. I know that. I know that especially because so many other people tell me what an incredibly amazing gift he was to them and how much he taught them and changed them.

My sweet Prince.

Love,
Cynthia

2 comments:

kristin said...

strength in these days.

someone said...

Cynthia, that letter...I think that is the most gut wrenching, heart stopping thing I have ever read. My thoughts are constantly with you this summer as you continue to allow me be a part of Harry's journey. I will be honest in that I am finding it very difficult to find any words of courage at this moment. But perhaps it is okay to be vulnerable at this time. The heart can not heal if it does not break.And maybe, if all those who know you and are getting to know you, if all of us carry just a tiny bit of the incredible sorrow that you carry, perhaps we can make it just a tiny bit lighter. I will certainly try.

Siobhan.
xo