Alba s touto skladbou:
Wildlife,
Like any morning of my junior year I stumble in the classroom late but this day I see
Faces, I feel an air like a funeral, like a wake, as I sit dow.
My teacher speaking, somewhat somberly, but still confident and calm.
Part eulogy, her speech, and part poem, part celebration song.
Her warmth and smile, she passes photocopies out to us of entries from a journal
Kept so long ago.
She starts to read and suddenly it’s 1980.
March 5
The cancer is furious but our son is resilient,
we have all the faith we’ll get through this no matter what the end.
Treatments are violent but he keeps on smiling.
It’s amazing finding joy in the little things.
April 12
Andrew’s appetites improved and we thank God everyday.
But still it’s hard sometimes to see him in that scarecrow frame.
July 9
There’s a suffering when I look in his eyes.
He’s been through so much.
We’ve all been through so much but what incredible resolve our little boy shows,
only 7, standing face to face with death.
He said it’s easy to find people who have suffered worse than him.
“Like Jesus, suffered worse than anyone,” he told me last night, “when God abandoned him.”
September 20
We’ve been playing in the yard lately and spirits are high
although his blood counts aren’t.
October 14
He feels tired all the time.
November 30
At the hospital again.
It feels like home when we’re here.
December 8
He’s getting worse.
January 19
We buried our son today, our youngest child,
and while his death was ugly we must not let it scare us from God.
Abundant grace has restored him.
A brand new body.
And set him free from the torture, finally rid of the cancer.
Before the moment he left he briefly wrested from death, suddenly opened his eyes, said,
“I SEE EVERYTHING. I SEE EVERYTHING.”
And I will never forget it, the peace and the comfort you displayed through a pain
that I can only imagine.
The loss of a child to the torture of cancer. Help me.
Because I can only imagine how you recovered,
kept your faith and held the brightness of life inside the smile of a child you had to bury.
And I will never forget him or your steadfast faith.
No, I will never forget you.
Now six or seven years later, I’m devoid of all faith.
I am empty of comfort and I am weary of waiting.
Though I’ve felt nowhere what you have, I see nothing at all.
Though I’ve felt nowhere what he did, my eyes are closed.
