For sixteen long months Matthew suffered from Leukemia and the treatments meant to heal him. I understand that he continued to have a wonderful attitude, even calling to comfort family members after his chemo treatments. His aunt, Jerelyn, was full of grace and truth when she proclaimed that “he won”. True. He did win. And we would not remove him from his exalted state with Jesus – even if we could. The funeral, flowers, and everything associated with this is not for him. It’s for us. And we need it. I wish I had met Matthew. I didn’t know him, but I knew.
I heard the same comments. I saw the same facial expressions. I watched the same agony. I sensed the same questions. I listened as the minister did his best to bring comfort to the comfortless. I could feel that same brokenness surrounding my heart as I wanted to badly to bring healing to this moment. I surveyed that lawn of death and separation, knowing that to the sin-cursed ground this was just a normal day. I glared at the coffin suspended above the prepared burial site. I didn’t know Matthew’s parents or his brother, but I knew.
My friend Brad said, “I hate death”. And so should we all. After the funeral I walked around for a while by myself. There was another grave of another 22 year old, this one a woman. Her grave was outlined by white rocks. Within were trinkets left by the grieving … angels … plaques with poems and observations … figures all covered with dust and weathered by the sun. Today we bought some flowers to go on John Robert’s grave. They will survive a while but ultimately, just like all of us, will fade. I didn’t know Matthew, or the hundreds of others buried at that cemetery, but I knew.
The sky was cloudy. There was a brisk … too brisk … wind blowing. It was cold. But it was nothing like the cold cold bitterness felt deep down in the heart of a parent standing at the edge of a grave. Once you’ve done that, there really isn’t anything else that seems so important any more. That kind of hurt takes over 
your heart. You can go on. You can choose to live. But deep down inside there’s that cold place that never seems to get warm. It is the sting of death. I only know One who can remove it. And He will.
Until then, there will be others. Most of them I’ll never know. Just like today. I didn’t know, but I knew.
So true,John.I can relate to the analogy.I didn’t know, but I knew.
As I sat in the hospital for 9 days with Andrew.Watching him nearly die.Watching others in the hospital as well.While in there, another man who was in ICU with Andrew and who’d been there for 2 months fighting Cancer.I didn’t know him, but I knew.Why? Because of Andrew.
If that makes any sense.
I pray I will not ever have to walk in the valley where you and Maggy are. Praying for you both.
John as the tears form in my eyes I can’t help but feel your pain. I hate the agony you and Maggy have gone through this year. I do praise God everyday for my children and grandchildren (I think what you have gone through has made being so far from my children all that more difficult.) I also praise God that they are healthy and dedicated followers of Him. My prayer is that they remain close to Him.
May God continue to bless you and Maggy as you serve Him. You are thrust into so many difficult situations to comfort others while you are still in need of so much comfort yourselves. HUGS!
Love,
Linda
Buddy, my heart still breaks for you and Maggy. JR was a special young man–the world is a dimmer place without him.
Love ya,
Les
VERY moving…It amazes me that you can be so strong for others after going through so much yourself; but, then again, God’s Word says, “When I am weak then I am strong.” I know you do all in His strength. Still praying for you daily.
Love in the Lord,
Auntbee
How well put…I didn’t know…but I knew. My son died in the Iraq war a year ago. I can totally relate to this post. Even though I don’t know you, I’ve kept up with your blog and read it regularly. I’ve prayed and continue to pray for your family.
I Love You, Doc.
We’re thinking of you and Margaret. You’re in my prayers. We love you!
John and Carol
I appreciate all of your thoughts … they mean so much to me. God bless you!
John,
Matthew & his family went to church w/ us at Westside. He has suffered something terrible, & I know it has been awful for his parents & brother. I feel so sorry for them. They were a very close knit family.
My same feelings go to you & Margaret. It must be terrible to lose a child.
My husband lost his son to a heart attack at 20 yrs. old. He really mourns the death of Matthew.
I wish I had let you know that we knew him, so you could have said something to his parents.
Love you & Margaret