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Edited on Tue Aug-03-04 01:20 PM by Padraig18
It's often said that the greatest grief that any person can experience is the death of a child. This morning, I sat face to face with that grief.
Two fellow parishoners at St. John's, Loren and Cheryl, were eating lunch in the local blue-plate diner today, and asked me if I would like to share their booth, since the diner was extremely busy and crowded. I accepted readily, because they're very nice people, and we've always gotten on well whenever we've chanced to be together. I also wanted to sit with them a bit and offer my condolences on their loss, which I did.
After we'd all finished our lunches, they seemed to want to talk with me about the death of their 20-year-old son, John, who attempted suicide on July 17 and then spent eight days on life support at St. Louis University Hospitalz before dying on July 26. The pain of his death and the toll of those eight days took on John and Cheryl showed in their faces as we sat there in the booth.
Before I move ahead, it's important that I fill in a few blanks about John, so let me back up:
John was accused of entering a storage facility at the County Jail and stealing 7-8 pounds of marijuana that had been seized by East Central Illinois Task Force agents during a drug bust in an adjoining county in September 2002. After more than 20 months winding through the court system, he entered a negotiated guilty plea to a single misdemeanor count of unlawful possession of marijuana. In exchange for the guilty plea, one count of burglary, one count of theft and one count of possession with intent to sell -- the now infamous county jail marijuana burglary and theft -- were dismissed.
During my conversation with Loren and Cheryl they didn't mince words when talking about the troubles John encountered during his life. They admitted he once stole a four-wheeler, had spent time in jail and ran with a 'rough crowd'. However, they don't believe John stole the marijuana from the jail and neither do 99% of the people who followed the case, including Tony and I. Sadly, that really doesn't matter now, because that sordid little piece of local history died when John did.
During our conversation, John and Cheryl were much more focused on talking about the good things John did that went unnoticed. Cheryl talked about a penchant her son had for donating blood (he donated 22 times) and said he often wanted to give to those less fortunate. "He was always concerned about people who were disabled or poor," Cheryl said. "He loved taking the meals at Thanksgiving to the people who couldn't get out and he loved delivering Christmas food baskets to the needy."
She told me that John once gave away a $130 pair of tennis shoes to a classmate whose family was poor, and that he also gave away a leather coat to a high school classmate whose parents had both been laid off recently. "Those are things that nobody ever knew about John," she said.
Loren recalled two vacations, one in New Orleans and one in Chicago, where John witnessed panhandlers and the homeless for the first time. "You had to carry his money for him or he would just give it all away," his dad recalled. "If somebody looked like they needed money he'd give them all he had. Even when he was in jail, there was an old guy in there that didn't have any family and John would tell us to put money on his 'book' with the jail superintendent so he could afford to buy snacks and soda, like everyone else."
There will be those in our community who will choose to remember John by recalling a troubled life that quickly spiraled downward after he was accused of stealing the marijuana from the county jail. Others might remember him because of a few minor scrapes with the law or the crowd with which he was associated. However, when I think of him, I'm going to think about a story his parents related to me, a story that portrayed a far different person than the one pictured in the media.
Ever since he was a child John was interested in organ donation and as soon as he was old enough, he signed up to be a donor. During the eight long days that Loren and Cheryl spent helplessly watching their son's life slowly ebb away, they were also making plans to see that his desire was fulfilled and that his organs were fully harvested.
Because of John a 50-year-old man woke up in St. Louis with a new lease on life. In critical condition and with less than a week to live, he received John's liver. Perhaps that nameless, faceless man is enjoying a sunrise this morning or making plans to spend the day with his grandkids or just simply go for a leisurely walk.
Two people in Nebraska each received a kidney and dialysis will now no longer be a part of their weekly lives.
One person in Indiana, and another in Chicago each received a cornea from John, so that they might see this beautiful world, maybe for the first time in their lives.
John's heart went to a young father whose own heart had been attacked by a virus, and who was days from death; now he may not only live to see his children grow up, but may even live to see his grandchildren.
Every major organ in John's body, his skin and even the bones of his arms and legs were harvested and will provide help to scores of people. Despite the troubles in his life, in the end it was John who helped an untold number of people in need, none of whom he even knew.
Before taking his life John wrote a letter addressed to his parents and his girlfriend -- a letter his Cheryl pulled from her purse and shared with me today. Repeatedly saying he was sorry for the times he messed up in his life, there was one part that just yanked at my heart. It read: "I loved you all more than you think or will ever know, but my mind is just too much for me to handle. I'm sorry. Please understand."
All of my life when I've thought about the afterlife and wondered about people like John who chose to take their own life, I've been torn between what my Church teaches, and what I personally believe about God. There are those who tell us who we must walk a straight and narrow path in order to reap the rewards of the hereafter and how committing suicide is not part of that path. On the other hand, I've always thought of God as loving, compassionate and always just. I'm certain many theologians will disagree, including those within my own Church, but I to believe that maybe--- just maybe--- there's a special place of rest set aside for all the 'Johns' of this world -- all those who have too much on their minds to handle and who struggle and battle but eventually lose to the daily demons they fight.
Rest in peace, John, and Godspeed.
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