Tonight, I found out that the doctors contacted my uncle, my grandfathers brother, for the possibility of a bone marrow transplant. My uncles response? I will do whatever I can, but you should know that on Monday I am going to Siteman to see a specialist. My blood count levels are very, very low. I saw the frustration in my grandfathers face and body language as he spoke about it. Already this has been such a roller coaster and there is such an emotional toll on him. When my grandfather got sick he made the decision to start a journal. I guess he felt it important to chronicle this journey of his. He honored me deeply by proudly presenting them to me and allowing me to read his thoughts about what he was going through. He printed out two typewritten pages and handed them to me. They were two very short journal entries which I expected to be filled with thoughts of death and of dying, of fear and uncertainty. Instead, he wrote about Shel Silverstein. Yes, thats right. He wrote about a childrens poet. He had gifted me with a book of poetry by Shel Silverstein when I turned 11 years old called Where the Sidewalk Ends. His journal spoke of how he pondered that title and how, from the first moment we are alive, from the moment we are conceived, God knows us. Some of us end our journey without ever seeing the light of day. Some of us travel on this earth for a few years, knowing the touch of another person and feeling sunlight before our sidewalk ends. Some of us grow to understand love and sacrifice before our sidewalk ends. Sometimes its a steep drop we never saw coming, when we swear we could see the clear, open road for miles. And some of us have the gift of seeing the end, and drawing closer to it with each step. The GIFT. And no matter the length of our sidewalk, be it one square or millions of concrete slabs, God knows us. I dont understand God the same way he does. But I think on this point, hes right. Spirit always knows us intimately, from the moment we become something alive on this plane. As another expression of itself, how could Spirit NOT know us intimately? There was such peace and calm in what he wrote. Peace, calm, and the knowledge that what he believes to be true, he needs to share. That file that will become the documentation of his journey is an extraordinary gift to his family. There has always been such wisdom and love in his words. Im so thankful. I will treasure each and every moment of this gift we have been given. Because who knows where the sidewalk will end?
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 02:22:28 +0000
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