2020 will always be remembered as the year that Benjamin died. As I reflect now on the day we lost our son, I weep in grief, tears spilling over gently as I breathe to control the sobs.
That day, sitting in the ICU room, absorbing the news of Ben's condition, the severity of his illness, the complications from his car accident, and all that would be required to heal him, Dan and I knew that it wouldn't be fair to put HIM through another medical ordeal. His little body was weak and tired. He had been through so much ALREADY IN his short life. He had already outlive the cancer prognosis years ago. We had gotten twenty years with him we never expected to have.
As I sat there in that room, I thought about what day it was. It was June 11th, and at first I could not recall the significance of that date. But then it struck me. June 11 was the day that Ben's first brain tumour was diagnosed when he was only 3 years old. It was 23 years later - to the very day! The day our lives had changed forever. The day that measured all the events of his life afterwards. The day that started this journey WITH BEN'S HEALTH.
And sitting in that ICU room I knew. I felt Peace. I felt Calm. Because I knew. This was the final chapter. The story now had an ending. Benjamin’s journey was complete and we needed to let him go. He fought so hard. He conquered so much. He was tired. He needed to rest. His poor little body was breaking down, system by system. We needed to release him into the hands of God, his Father, who would welcome our little angel with open arms; with the words “well done, good and faithful servant”.
And so today, I weep. I weep for Ben. Even though I know he lives on. As Jesus wept for Lazarus, even though He knew he would be raised from the dead. (John 11:35) Ben lives in our memories. He lives on in the hearts of those who knew him. He lives on in the lives of those he touched with his story while he was here on earth. And he lives on in eternity with Jesus. I will see him again some day. That is my hope.
But I weep…as a mother who has lost her child. I weep for his life lost to illness; for the days of his physical pain; for the days of despair, for the days of exhaustion, for the days when I lost my hope in the mire of living…
And I weep now for hope. For my renewed faith. For the future I now trust God, again. I weep and pray that Benjamin’s life was not in vain, that his story will now be told to touch more lives still.
“Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4