Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Thanks for Eddie's birthday wishes!
Eddie and his family were so, so touched by all the cards that were sent his way last week! Here is just one of the doors he decorated with some of your goodness (and as you can see, there were so many other cards still needing to be hung, too). Thank you, friends!
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Happy birthday, Eddie!
Dear Eddie:
Today is your birthday. You should be getting lots of cards today; we invited our friends to fill your mailbox. Moriah's class at school and at daycare sent cards to you, too, so some of these cards will be made by little hands, full of scribbles and stickers and glitter and those sorts of things.
You were about that age when I first met you, weren't you? I'm sure your mom has told you the story--how she and I met on an elevator in Children's Hospital as strangers, only later to be reconnected through Dr. Lehmann as likely friends for each other. I wasn't allowed to meet you in those early months; like our son, you were sequestered to your room, and I could only wave to you from the hallway window, or make funny faces to you, or give your mom pictures Orilus and I had colored for you in our own isolated room. You were 6 years old then. Just barely 6, and you had been diagnosed with aplastic anemia at five years old. By the time you reached the bone marrow transplant floor at Children's and we met you, you had already spent 6 months in another Boston hospital.
You are 13 years old today. Unlike lots of kids your age, Eddie, you have already learned one of life's hardest lessons: Life simply doesn't go the way we expect it will. Your mom, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your brother, and your friends--we all wanted a healthy life for you, Eddie. We all had high hopes that your bone marrow transplant would be a huge success. And you did, too.
Life hasn't turned out the way we all had hoped.
But on your 13th birthday, I hope you will have some time to learn one of life's other great lessons: Life is a journey about discovering how much you are loved. And you really are, Eddie. From the Boston Celtics to the Lego company in Europe to the high school in your hometown, your life has touched people, and they care about you. Hundreds of people have supported you and your family through Eddie's Fund. Hopefully this week your mailbox is jammed full as proof of that. Our family loves you; little Moriah prays for you every night, and often spontaneously throughout the day: "Bless Eddie. Boo-boo! Amen!" Your family loves you. And that mom of yours--well, she loves you more consistently, more doggedly, more committedly, than any mom I know. You are a deeply loved boy, Eddie.
And sometimes, when life doesn't go the way we want it to, or the way we had hoped it would...love is what we have. It's life's most precious gift, and it comes to us whether we are healthy, or sick, or young, or old, whether we are rich and famous or a brave young man fighting for his health every day in a hospital or in his living room.
On your 13th birthday, Eddie, feel the love. This morning I am sending you mine with all my prayers for your health. And my greatest prayer for you is this: May you become a person who knows he is loved--by God, and by us all.
Happy birthday, Eddie.
Love,
Melissa
Today is your birthday. You should be getting lots of cards today; we invited our friends to fill your mailbox. Moriah's class at school and at daycare sent cards to you, too, so some of these cards will be made by little hands, full of scribbles and stickers and glitter and those sorts of things.
You were about that age when I first met you, weren't you? I'm sure your mom has told you the story--how she and I met on an elevator in Children's Hospital as strangers, only later to be reconnected through Dr. Lehmann as likely friends for each other. I wasn't allowed to meet you in those early months; like our son, you were sequestered to your room, and I could only wave to you from the hallway window, or make funny faces to you, or give your mom pictures Orilus and I had colored for you in our own isolated room. You were 6 years old then. Just barely 6, and you had been diagnosed with aplastic anemia at five years old. By the time you reached the bone marrow transplant floor at Children's and we met you, you had already spent 6 months in another Boston hospital.
You are 13 years old today. Unlike lots of kids your age, Eddie, you have already learned one of life's hardest lessons: Life simply doesn't go the way we expect it will. Your mom, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your brother, and your friends--we all wanted a healthy life for you, Eddie. We all had high hopes that your bone marrow transplant would be a huge success. And you did, too.
Life hasn't turned out the way we all had hoped.
But on your 13th birthday, I hope you will have some time to learn one of life's other great lessons: Life is a journey about discovering how much you are loved. And you really are, Eddie. From the Boston Celtics to the Lego company in Europe to the high school in your hometown, your life has touched people, and they care about you. Hundreds of people have supported you and your family through Eddie's Fund. Hopefully this week your mailbox is jammed full as proof of that. Our family loves you; little Moriah prays for you every night, and often spontaneously throughout the day: "Bless Eddie. Boo-boo! Amen!" Your family loves you. And that mom of yours--well, she loves you more consistently, more doggedly, more committedly, than any mom I know. You are a deeply loved boy, Eddie.
And sometimes, when life doesn't go the way we want it to, or the way we had hoped it would...love is what we have. It's life's most precious gift, and it comes to us whether we are healthy, or sick, or young, or old, whether we are rich and famous or a brave young man fighting for his health every day in a hospital or in his living room.
On your 13th birthday, Eddie, feel the love. This morning I am sending you mine with all my prayers for your health. And my greatest prayer for you is this: May you become a person who knows he is loved--by God, and by us all.
Happy birthday, Eddie.
Love,
Melissa
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)