For Kim

We moved into a rental home for the first six months here. As we were unpacking boxes, a woman came over with her grandson. They lived next door. I introduced her to my three sons, including our youngest, Max, who was five. This is what she said.

"My daughter, Kim, was diagnosed with aggressive cancer when her little boy was just a baby. She is fighting for her life. Ryan cannot have brothers or sisters.

When I heard that the house next door was coming up for rent, I got down on my knees and I prayed to God. I asked God for a five-year-old boy to move in next door."

And there was Max, standing in our kitchen, exactly five years old.

He and Ryan became best friends.

As the years passed, I watched from a distance as Ryan's mom, Kim, fought for her life. She and her dad would travel to Texas for the best treatments available. She would pick up her son whenever she could, plan great excursions for him even if she could not come. She was always bright and chipper on the phone.

I later found out that she had been given six months to live when Ryan was a baby.

She died just three days ago. Ryan is seven. And he will never forget his mom.

I have never seen love quite like hers before, a love so powerful as to defy the worst kind of disease for years. Her love is that of a mother, and it is huge.

When I found out that she died, I went for a run and cried hard. I cried for how unfair it is that she should die when I can run. I cried for her son and her parents and her husband. And as I cried, this feeling of fierce joy and love overcame me. I realized that Kim's love has grown and it continues to grow.

So she is my saint now, this woman who loves her son. Ryan has the most beautiful voice. It seems to come straight from God. I have never heard anything like it in a child. It is as if the Holy Spirit pours out of him.

He was singing to her when she died.

And now, with all my heart, I believe that Kim lives. And she loves, forever.

- The Very Rev. Kate Moorehead

Sunday, April 15, 2012