Profiles in Courage (warning: Lengthy musings ahead). . . In the last decade, I have personally and intimately witnessed many enormous exhibitions of faith, hope and courage in the face of incurable, devastating and debilitating illnesses -- each different and alike at the same time. It is not the illnesses, however, that I wish to speak of, although there should be increased discussions-- perhaps even community forums--on the devastation of heart disease, multiple myeloma and prostrate and colon cancers which affect twice as many African Americans as they do other races. Instead, watching my son, Andwele, today battle his way back from yet another slight set-back on this his third week in the hospital and third hospitalization since Christmas which included a heart surgery (on which his existing heart almost gave up), I am reminded of the great force of courage, encouragement and hope his father displayed in the nearly nine years following his diagnosis. There came a point--some years following his diagnosis of multiple myeloma--that my husband decided he would live victoriously and, above all, that he would live to let his test become his testimony. He decided, first, that he would have grandchildren despite the odds, that he would meet them, fall in love with them and make himself an invaluable and irreplaceable part of their lives. And as they came over the years, he did just that. Nearly a year after his passing, each speaks of their grandfather with a great longing and with as much deference as toddlers can muster. He determined that he would travel with his family. He and I took our first trip to Vegas although we knew little about the games (with the exception of the penny slots), we cruised to the Bahamas with our two eldest children, even though I spent the majority of my time in a near diabetic coma from the 24/7 buffet, sleeping in the cabin with my also-sleepy, pregnant daughter, and we made it a practice and habit each summer to hit the Cincinnati jazz festival carting along every by-now grown kid and potential or actual spouse. Along the way, we managed to make it to the Essence Fest in New Orleans, every Frankie Beverly concert between here and Cincinnati every single time he came through (only because Leon liked to watch me dance to Joy and Pain), and vacations in St. Pete Beach (thanks, Maggie Keane) and Miami (thanks, Phil Williams). Leon was disappointed when his high school class didnt host a 35th year reunion, so he decided that he WOULD (and did) make his 40th. My point: Leon determined, despite the diagnosis of a terminal illness, that he would Live to tell. He gave the fight his all, helping to raise over $40,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society through three campaigns over three years, and he never missed his post as Sunday School teacher or as musical director unless we were traveling or we were in Indy during one of his two stem cell transplants. But the subject of this post--courage, a fighting spirit and will to live--is never self-derived. It comes by example and by encouragement and support. Leon was blessed with those components by many, including family members and a myriad of friends, church members, colleagues and friends. One of those friends, whom we met during our early years at Massie Zion (now New Covenant), was Tracy Price, then a little boy himself. Tracy and Leon were actually reacquainted at the cancer center during chemo sessions, which Leon never looked forward to. But while Leon endured a three to four-hour drip once a month in later years to combat the ravages of the blood cancer s attack on his already compromised bones, when he learned that Tracys drip for colon cancer was much longer and often twice each week, and that he took responsibility to get himself there and home by himself (Leons father or I always accompanied him to his drips) and, over the years, as Leon watched Tracy interact with both the staff and other patients including Leon, praying for, talking to and encouraging them, his attitude switched from one of dread to mere annoyance and, significantly, matching determination. Tracy often talked of the great sorrows his mother had already experienced, including grave illnesses and the passing of other close family members, and of his mission to trust that God could defy the physicians dire expectations of his own three-year survival (He did). But, not only was Tracys desire to live, but to live victoriously and to be an encouragement even at his lowest points--and there were many of those including times of grave suffering and uncertainty. In fact, Tracy is going through just such a point in his life as I post. But he, like Leon, accomplished many of the items on his own bucket list, not the least of which was serving as a springboard for someone elses revelation that to trust and determine to live life abundantly was far better than to hang around waiting for death to overtake them. Thank you, Tracy. Job well done. And thank you, Leon, my dear departed sweet prince, for adopting that same fierce fighting spirit and determination and for displaying it daily before your wife, children, sister, neice, parents, family members and friends. I often wondered why, every year since his initial heart failure all those years ago, Dwele has insisted on having a celebration of life (an out and out party in my estimation) for each birthday. Who does that?, Id ask him. Now as I look at him struggling to regain his strength, as I watch him fight to regain ground after each setback both before and since surgery, I suddenly realize that his desire to live to tell is just as strong as that exhibited by his father and that of Tracy Price. I understand completely, and I am so proud of him. Pray for our family as we encourage Andwele to continue his fight, and join with us--just as Tracy and others encouragements have bolstered us--in propping him up on every side when he seems dejected or grows weary of the battle. And continue to pray for Tracy Price and his family through the most difficult juncture they have encountered thus far. I cannot and have not attempted to tell Tracys story--he and his loved ones can best tell his story (giveforward). What I have tried to do is to pass along only those portions Tracy specifically shared with us, which Leon subsequently shared with us to emulate and to pass along to others. Courage anyone?
Posted on: Sun, 02 Feb 2014 06:49:20 +0000
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