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The Beautiful Boy

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Today, as many times before, I'm waiting in the surgical waiting area. My daughter, Karli, is once again having surgery. She's had so many in the past five years that we've all lost count. As I sit here I remembered being here two years and several surgeries ago. My grandson, Jakob, was with me as we waited. I wrote this as I watched him wait for him mom.

She watched intently as the skinny little boy with the curly blonde hair played on the rooftop terrace of the hospital. His mother, her daughter, was in surgery again for the fourth time in a little over a year.

She knew that Beautiful Boy was worried and gazed at him with the concern of a grandmother. He was so handsome with his enchanting smile and quick wit, but she worried about what was hidden behind those smiling brown eyes.

Rays of the soft autumn sunshine that fell on his sweet face made her think that God indeed had special plans for this young child.

He watched with a knowing look as the scarlet and tangerine colored leaves fell from their homes on the stately maple trees that were planted on the manicured grounds of the hospital. They gracefully floated down, gliding with the breeze and coming to rest around the life giving roots of those trees. Soon they would decompose and the cycle of life would begin once more. Beautiful Boy was bright enough to know that all things must come to an end; he just prayed that this wasn't the time that God would call his mother home.

He had endured much loss in his eight years, he deserved a break. The angels took his baby brother, Isaiah, home just 12 weeks after he had been born on the second floor of this very hospital. Two years later his baby brother Josiah was born three months early. Everyone was afraid of angels also coming for this baby, but they didn't. Josiah came home three months later healthy and thriving. During this time Beautiful Boy had to endure the death of his great grandmother, although to him she was more of a grandmother, especially since she was about the age of his friends' grandmothers.

Beautiful Boy had to watch the grief of his mom and her mom, a grief that seemed to never end and left them lost in a hazy fog. He took what he had witnessed and hid it deep in his heart behind barriers of smile and sparkling eyes.

Then came the Baby Diva, also born three months early. Beautiful Boy was frightened once again, more now that he was older. He still wasn't old enough to put into words what he felt, but you could see it in his soft brown eyes.

Several weeks later the family got the terrible news that his mom's Papa Airplane had died of a broken heart from losing his wife the year before. Beautiful Boy's eyes now carried a deeper sadness that was hidden behind the twinkle he always had and the ever present smile on that handsome dimpled face. But a grandmother can see these things and she worried about him.

She continued to watch him take in God's world that perfect fall day. The dormant Mt Hood was to the east. Snow was beginning to cover its picturesque peaks. He watched the birds flying in and out of the scarlet and orange trees. He thought and wondered about not only his mommy, but about life itself and just how fragile it is. Beautiful Boy had learned lessons that many adults take decades to learn and he knew that it wasn't over yet.


Jennifer Perry November 3, 2010 at 2:21 PM  

Much love to you, BP Diva, the Beautiful Boy, your daughter and all the loving folks in your family.

Furry Bottoms November 3, 2010 at 2:34 PM  

He really is a Beautiful Boy. Its hard to lose one person... but to lose all those people... he must be a very strong boy.

Christy November 3, 2010 at 2:47 PM  

We always hope to shield them from the fact that much of life is loss. We learn to cope with it better as we age so the young are not supposed to learn that lesson so soon.

Mimi November 3, 2010 at 3:13 PM  

What a moving story. Thanks for sharing it & I'll be praying for all of you.

Hugs & Love,

Monkey Man November 3, 2010 at 3:38 PM  

Hard lessons for an adult, let alone a small chld. You serve him well, PBD, in being there for him.

Dazee Dreamer November 3, 2010 at 4:58 PM  

what a beautiful post. my thoughts and prayers are with you and your daughter.

MommyLovesStilettos November 3, 2010 at 5:16 PM  

WOW. What a touching and deep post. *HUGS* Hope everything is ok.

Cheeseboy November 3, 2010 at 7:59 PM  

Touching. What a kid and what a history.

Miley November 3, 2010 at 8:42 PM  

That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing it - truly. Thank you.

Rob-bear November 3, 2010 at 10:11 PM  

Such a wonderful lad, and such a talented grandmother to be able to write the story like that.

I hope all of you come out of this as healthy, happy humans.

Blessings in a challenging time!

Nicole November 3, 2010 at 10:40 PM  

Excellent writing as always.

Me November 4, 2010 at 6:07 AM  

I hope everything went well. Sending good thoughts.

Jill November 4, 2010 at 7:28 AM  

That is a lot for one little boy to bear but think about what a compassionate and insightful man he will be. Beautiful post.

Hart Johnson November 4, 2010 at 7:51 AM  

beautiful story about grandson and grandma--I think grandparents are the most special people there are, but possibly that is only because I don't have grandkids yet. I also didn't realize you were in Oregon--that is my heart state, even though I don't live there anymore.

I hope your daughter's surgery goes well.

Claudya Martinez November 4, 2010 at 11:39 AM  

Keeping you all in my thoughts and prayers.

Pat November 4, 2010 at 6:38 PM  

Thanks for sharing this touching story of the Beautiful Boy and his loving Grandma. I hope all went with with your daughter.

Mimi November 5, 2010 at 11:35 AM  

I just wanted to pop in again to let you know that I'm thinking about you & your daughter.



The Green-Eyed Brat November 10, 2010 at 11:52 PM  

I've wanted to ask about him but it hurts too much to hear. I think it's because I know how he feels and I don't want to face his pain that will lead me to mine. I think of him and Karli often. It makes me angry to the point I can't find the words.

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