War Buddies

The PICU at Mayo Clinic is in the shape of a horseshoe with patient rooms occupying the outside of the curve.  A walkway connects the rooms and curves from one end of the horseshoe to the other. In the middle are desks, computers, and medical equipment.  The nurses told me the sickest kids are in the corner rooms because the corner rooms are the largest. The sickest kids have the most equipment and need more space.  TJ was in a corner room in the left corner of the horseshoe.

A couple of weeks after arriving at Mayo Clinic, a young man was admitted into the other corner room next to TJ’s.  He was very sick. Although I had seen his family coming and going, I never spoke to them. One morning I entered the PICU and noticed the young man’s room was full of medical staff.  Because I had the same experience a couple of weeks prior, I knew what that meant: He wasn’t doing well. I watched the young man’s mom entering and leaving his room. I wanted so badly to talk to her. However, because I didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, I kept to myself.

A few days later, I finally introduced myself.  I learned the young man’s name was Tom and his mom’s name was Janet.  They were from Wisconsin and were quite familiar with Mayo Clinic as they had been there many times before.  During this hospitalization, Tom was fighting Leukemia, but he’d had a variety of health issues for many years prior.  During our initial meeting, I learned that we weren’t going to be neighbors for long because Tom was being moved upstairs.  Before he left, I told him I hoped one day when he and TJ were better, they could meet.

After our meeting, Janet quickly became my closest friend at the hospital.  We ate lunch at the Canadian Honker, took coffee breaks at the Caribou across the street, and once in awhile went for ice cream.  We laughed and cried together and encouraged one another with God’s Word. We even looked somewhat alike, and the nurses from time to time got us confused.

Because she had dealt with serious illness before, Janet was great at giving advice.  I learned many things from her about hospital life and what life would be like when we got out.  Tom also had Down’s syndrome, and Janet taught me many things about special needs and helped me with the transition of TJ being a typical child to TJ becoming a child with special needs.  She built TJ up and told me he was still a cool kid even if he couldn’t talk. I never forgot that.

TJ and Tom were admitted to rehab at the same time, and they were finally healthy enough to meet.  Tom and Janet were now just down the hall from TJ and me, and we visited them frequently.

Sometimes during therapy, TJ and Tom were in the gym at the same time.  From across the room, Tom would yell, “TJ, work hard! Listen to your mother!  May the force be with you!” TJ would then throw his head back, make a loud humming noise, and shake his head back and forth.  That was how he laughed.

Many times during physical therapy, they both walked back and forth in the gym with their therapists, and as they passed by one another, they held their hands up high to give one another a high five.  However, because TJ had eye deficits and had trouble judging distance, they oftentimes missed each other’s hands. They were quite entertaining to watch.

Tom and TJ a few days before discharging from Rehab wearing their matching “Repaired in Rochester” shirts
August, 2013

These special boys had fought many battles to recover their health, and now they were doing well.  They were discharged from rehab within a couple days of each other, and we hoped one day we would see each other again.

Early in the year of 2014, while TJ was at the brain injury rehab facility in Iowa, he had his yearly appointment at Mayo for a heart checkup.  While in between appointments, we sat down to wait in a waiting room in the Gondola Building. I sat in a seat under the windows, and TJ sat directly across from me.  From where he sat, he could see down the hallway, but I could not. As we waited, I saw him looking intently down the hall, and then his eyes lit up. I assumed that someone he knew from the medical staff was walking toward him, but I could not see who it was. Suddenly, Janet and Tom came into my view. What a pleasant surprise!  Neither of us knew the other had appointments that day in Rochester. We just happened to be there on the same day, at the same time, and in the same building. Because I don’t believe in coincidences, I believe it was the love of God allowing two old war buddies to see each other one more time.  We visited for a while and were sad when it was time to tell our friends goodbye and go to our next appointment. It was the last time TJ ever saw Tom.

Tom and TJ during our unexpected visit at Mayo Clinic February, 2014

About a year later, Tom’s Leukemia came back, and after a long, three-year, hard-fought battle, he passed away in late summer of 2015 at the age of 21.  After hearing the news, TJ lay on the floor of our family room sobbing. It was a sad time. Two and a half years later, TJ would also pass away at the age of 21.

After taking some time to recover from losing our sons, recently Janet and I started a tradition of meeting once a year for a weekend. During our visit, we spent the weekend laughing, crying, and talking about our sons and the memories they left. Now that TJ and Tom are together in heaven, we wonder if they laugh and talk about us, too.  Imagining them both healthy, joyful, together, and not in pain anymore is a comforting thought.

I’ve heard it said that the death of a child is one of the hardest things a person can ever go through.  I am very grateful for the friends the Lord has given me to help lessen the pain. I am among all truly blessed.

“From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.
John 1:16

All Things New

Revelation 21:5 “Behold I am making all things new.”

I stood at the rear sliding glass door of my house and gazed longingly at my rain-soaked backyard garden.  It had been raining cats and dogs for days, and it was looking like this day would be no different. Annuals were desperate for planting, weeds demanded pulling, and tall perennials were crying out for staking, but it was too wet to do any of that today.  A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, and I quietly murmured, “I guess it will just have to wait.”

I then turned my attention to the cherub wrapped in his wings and perched on a bench at the end of my garden.  He sat alone and looked like a child praying with head bowed. He was surrounded by an array of flowers that complimented his light gray cement color.  My husband bought him for my birthday a couple of summers ago to replace the garden angel TJ destroyed with his paintballs. I enjoyed gazing at this new cherub amidst all of the colorful garden splendor.  He was way better made and much better quality than the angel he replaced.

Broken garden angel

Several years ago, my then 15-year-old son TJ decided it would be funny to shoot up my backyard with paintballs.  I arrived home from work one day and was surprised to find my tree trunks pink, my shed orange, and my garden angel yellow with a hole in her right shoulder and feathers from her delicate wings broken or missing.  I didn’t find his shenanigans to be as funny as he thought they were, but I have to admit that underneath my outward irritation was a smile I was trying to disguise. Even though he accidentally broke my garden angel I was quite fond of, I did secretly enjoy the delight in his eyes and the way his shoulders bounced up and down in rhythm with the chuckle he couldn’t hold in from being able to pull off a mischievousness that irritated his mother.

The broken, pockmarked angel sat in my garden for a couple of years.  Despite my affection for her, I planned on replacing her but had never gotten around to it because in my fondness for her, I had almost convinced myself that from a distance you could hardly tell she was broken.

And then TJ suffered his brain injury.

“How could I replace her now?” I thought.  Her presence in the garden was tied to a memory of TJ in his healthy days.  Throwing away her broken figure would somehow feel the same as throwing away good memories of when he was young and full of life.  It would feel as if he was being erased. She then sat broken in my backyard for several more years.

But after time I began to realize that the good memories she conjured up also brought along painful memories and reminded me of how things once had been and that they would never be that way again.  For many years these two polar opposite feelings twisted and turned inside of me like oil and water. They occupied the same space but were distinctly separate and never became one. Until one day when I came to the firm decision that it was time to throw her away.  Her brokenness was too painful for me to endure anymore, and it was time to replace her with something new. I then asked my husband for a new garden statue.

New garden cherub

Looking at my new cherub that rainy morning reminded me of the painful fact that everything in this world, even things we take great care of, break and need replaced. Everything eventually loses its shiny newness, wears out, and gets old. Buildings become old and get restored; bosses want fresh ideas and substitute workers; teams want winning seasons and exchange athletes; and garden angels get shot up by paintballs and need replaced.  We long for a place where things will always remain new, life won’t get boring, bodies won’t grow weak and old, and favorite statues remain in our gardens.

In Revelation 21:5 God announced directly from his throne, “Behold I am making all things new.”  God is in the act right now of making all things new, and He promises His people when He finishes His work, not only will all things have been made new, but they will STAY new.  They will never break, wear out, or need replaced. We will have new, strong bodies that will never grow old, new discoveries everyday to interest ourselves, and an eternity to spend with our loved ones.

So that begs me to ask the question, dear one…..will YOU be made new?  Will you experience the newness that heaven offers? Only those who choose to put their faith in Christ will encounter the newness that is reserved only for heaven.

Answer His call and accept Christ as your Savior today and look forward to an eternity of all things made new.