Healing in the Journey

Tomorrow is our son's 23rd birthday. He and I were talking a few weeks ago about how it's been eight years now since he first got sick. That made me think about this blog I posted back in March of 2019:

This Old Man With My Son's Face

He shuffles into the kitchen each morning
Arm wrapped around his middle, back hunched, face lined with pain
He sits in his chair with a sigh, staring sadly at his food
Knowing he needs to eat, but knowing it will hurt
His eye, once so bright and sparkling blue, now dull with pain and fatigue
I look for a trace of my boy in this old man with my son’s face.

 It started simply enough, a stomach bug we thought
A stomach bug that never ended 
First his energy faded, then his weight dropped
My six foot three baby boy fading away. His color left with his weight. 
I rejoice on the rare days I see pink in his cheeks
And a sparkle in the eyes of this old man with my son’s face.

 Tests and tests, supplements and medications
Try this, test for that, feed him this, don’t feed him that
Well meaning friends and family
Doctors with non answers. Liz at least gives hope
More doctors and more tests to find a cause, to find a cure
To break free of this old man with my son’s face.

“Is he missing school? Is he missing church?
You need to find a cure,” more well meaning folk tut tut
"He’s missing LIFE!” I want to scream
Instead I try to smile and say, “We’re doing all we can.
We’ve changed diet and doctors. We’ll try again and again.
To find the cause and the cure of this old man with my son’s face.

 He wafts into the living room, a stiff breeze could knock him down
So thin, so pale, he folds into the chair next to me
Stooping to lay his head on my shoulder. 
I want him to talk to me, he doesn’t want me to worry 
So we sit in silence and understanding. 
And I will him to be well, this old man with my son’s face.

 And always through the long days and months 
We pray and pray and pray, for answers, 
For healing that hasn’t happened yet, and it’s hard to keep the faith
But faith we do have and healing will come
If not now then soon someday, to free the prisoner
My little boy, from this old man with my son’s face.

Conner - June 2018, a few months in to his mystery illness

9 years later...

I am pleased to say that we did finally figure out what was wrong and he is well. He was able to enjoy his senior year of high school (well, what 2020 let him have of it), go to college at TN Tech, and get married. Now he's about to start grad school in a few weeks.

Conner & Savannah after their wedding, May 2024

I've been thinking a lot about our respective journeys this week as his birthday approaches (I'll repost the other blogs I did during those years here on my new blog as they may help someone else find hope), I'm finishing up my last week of official classes for my doctorate, he's moved to Chattanooga for grad school... We both agree that while we learned a lot and grew a lot from the experience, we definitely wouldn't wish it on anyone. But... I am grateful for it. I am grateful for the knowledge and the healing and for now being able to help other people heal.