Broken hearts and angel wings

Today, seven years ago, my Grandfather died. R'Dean Smith, a strong man in his 90's, had, what we believe to be, a massive stroke. My Grampa was one of Javad's biggest cheerleaders. He and my Grama would sit with Javad during long hospitalizations, singing to him, reading to him, talking to him. Grampa would call and ask how his "Big Boy" was doing. He definitely had a heart for my son.

My grandparents also held our MTM Community in their hearts and prayers. Each time a child passed, I would call them, tell them about the family, about the child and they would put their prayer warriors on it.

Seven years ago, my world changed. The loss of him has forever changed my life. I believe that Javad misses him too. My one comfort is that I believe that my Grandfather watches over those that run in the Playground in Heaven. This last few weeks have been difficult for our small community. Three boys have passed away, leaving their shattered families behind. Hearts broken, angels wings gained. Every death ripples through our community, each death straining the resolve of each parent. Comforting families through love and prayers seems inadequate for the depth of their loss.

Sometimes I feel so helpless in this world. Over the course of Javad's life so many children have gained their angel wings, so many families impacted.  Some days it is hard. I wonder if there will be a time when my number is the one that comes up. In a world of medically fragile the likelihood of this happening is more than not. We all know that there will be a time when we will die. Knowing that you will likely watch your child die is something that no parent should have to prepare for.

As I sit here, listening to my sweet boy watching a movie, I am grateful. I know that he is not feeling well again, but yet I am grateful. I am grateful that he has celebrated his sixteenth birthday and look forward to many more but I know that every year is a gift. Our community sits and waits for a cure, a treatment. We are currently having drug trials within the community. I know that my boy would be far down the list to receive medication but we're almost there. Almost to a world where boys (and girls) could have a life so different from my sweet boy. A life where breathing may be more natural, where moving may be less difficult. This gives me hope. Hope that possibly we can have a new ending for many, one that doesn't involve tears and broken hearts and the Playground in Heaven.

That thought is one that brings light to my world and soothes so many broken hearts.


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