It was appointment day and Youngest dillydallied leaving the hospital. He wanted to say hi to his physical therapist down the hall and he wanted a drink of water and I was pretend sighing at him to hurry up. That was the day we met J.
We met when his wheelchair nearly collided with ours. I chuckled while his parents scolded and apologized. J was leaving with a petrie cast. I poked Youngest and said, "Hey, you had one like that!" J launched into telling us he had Perthes Disease and just like that the two boys were fast friends. While the kids got to know each other I got to talk with other Perthes parents. We talked about school and wheelchairs and braces and how hard it is to tell an active kid to stop. I felt an instant connection to the parents while the kids were discussing their own instant connection.
We exchanged phone numbers and met at the park. When we got together again at their house the boys had an intense Nerf gun battle while the moms sat and chatted. There was a three year age difference between them but the way they got on with each other you would never have guessed it. I've had countless requests of "When will we see J again? Can you call his mom?"
J was one of those people who never met a stranger. His smile and laugh were contagious. One day while out with my family we ran into their family. Once again the kids played and the adults chatted. When it was time to part ways J begged both sets of parents for Youngest to come home with them and stay the night. We hadn't talked about it in advance so I gave the typical parent hesitation. I didn't want my kid to impose if they had other plans. I didn't know how their family felt about sleepovers. His mom gave the same hesitation. J promptly told us that it was the same as having his cousins come for a sleepover and that Youngest was like his cousin. We ended by promising for parents to connect to plan out a time rather than something spontaneous.
That is a promise that was broken. Youngest would remind me and I would say I'd call J's mom and then would get busy with life and forget. Last week in a tragic turn of events J's life ended. I wish I'd called every singe time Youngest asked me to. I wish we would have made those sleepover plans. I wish I hadn't assumed there would be more time just because they were young.
Today was his funeral. I've attended the funerals of too many children. It never gets easier, and it shouldn't. I think it actually gets harder with each funeral. He was a beautiful soul. He made the world a better place in his few years here. Hug your kids. Tell them how much you love them. Call your loved ones. Buy the potato salad. Make the chili. Show up to the functions. Be fully present. Because we aren't promised tomorrow.
When my time comes I hope I've made the kind of impact J did, that the memories of me are beautiful and comforting to those I leave behind.
