It's Not About the Why, It's About The Win

Angel Wings

“Angel wings.” It’s what they say in the world of childhood cancer when a child passes away. “He earned his angel wings.” I don’t know if it offers much comfort to the parents. I don’t know if it does the child’s valiant fight much justice. I really don’t know if it’s meaningful or appropriate, but it seems to be the go-to phrase.

God how I wish we didn’t need a go-to phrase for this. Why does this happen? I can’t understand it. I don’t know why kids get cancer. I don’t know why some die. I don’t know why the world needs kid-sized angel wings at all. I do know a few things, though. I know it’s not fair. I know it hurts. I know it’s not easy. I know it breaks hearts and shatters families. With every ounce of my being, I know it’s just not right. Not right at all, today more than ever.

Today leukemia stole another person too soon from our little piece of the world. Mr. Brave has “earned his angel wings,” though I’m pretty damn sure there isn’t a set of wings big enough to embrace his battle, his courage, or his strength.

To Jonathan – You will always be an inspiration to me, to Andrew, to my family, to our school community, and to so many patients, families, and staff members at the hospital. Because of the impact you have had on us, our promise to you is to be part of your legacy, part of what will ensure that you are never forgotten.

To Elizabeth – Even though I’ve only known you for a short time in the big scheme of things, I’m so grateful to call you a friend. I cannot find all the words to comfort you right now, but I hope you know I’m here for you – not just today, or this week, or this month, but always.

To the entire Harrison family – thank you for sharing Jonathan with all of us. We are crying with you, praying for you, and hoping for peace for all of you.