Ezra middle
Ezra left
I've always felt fortunate that my experiences with death have thus far been limited. The first funeral I ever attended was my friend Ryan's when I was 18. The next person I lost who was close to me was my grandfather when I was 26. Really, that's about the extent of it. Each experience was obviously very different given that one lived a full life well into his 90s while the other was gone so sudden. One I had time to prepare for and the other I never saw coming. But through both I've learned that no matter your level of preparation, the pain and sorrow that come in the wake of loss are always profound.
Since we've lived in Seattle, there are a number of people we have come to rely on, and the Sherman-Hemsley family is among that group of people. We met them when we were called to teach in the primary, as they had three children in the primary at the time and all of them were in our class. Over the years they have become very near and dear to us, and we love them a great deal. We have watched their kids grow, perform in plays and choirs, and have had many other experiences with them that we will always cherish.
Last Saturday we received the shocking news that one of their twin sons, Ezra, had been hospitalized and diagnosed with Leukemia. Given that there are a variety of strains of Leukemia, each with different chances of recovery, we had no idea what to expect. As the days progressed, it was revealed that Ezra had a very rare and aggressive form of the disease.
This past week was extremely difficult. As each of my two previous experiences with death has been different, this is the first time I've watched life hang in the balance and wondered at every moment if the person I cared about was still alive. Stacy and I joined our ward in a fast, we prayed in our home, we cried daily, and we begged the Lord to spare the life of this dear boy. We hoped for the best, yet prepared for the worst. We pleaded for Ezra to live, but I have found that often when we pray, we are not going to change the will of the Father, but somehow we can be brought in alignment with His will and can in someway accept it. The hardest thing to do is say, "Thy will be done."
Ezra hung on and fought for several days, but in the end, it wasn't enough. He passed away early yesterday evening and it gives me comfort to know that he was in peace as he returned to the Father. I don't pretend to know the inner workings of the Lord, and I may likely never understand why Ezra had to go. But I have faith that what happened is according to His plan and will for Ezra and the Sherman-Hemsley family. Stacy and I will miss him dearly, but we rejoice in knowing that we will see him again someday. Our continued thoughts and prayers are with his family as they grieve and try to cope with this incredible loss.
Yesterday I wondered to myself: Would it be better to have never known these people so that I wouldn't have to deal with the pain of their loss; or knowing what I know now, would I have still chosen the same? The answer to that question is most definitely the latter. I feel incredibly blessed to have had these people in my life, and will always think about them not in terms of something that was taken from me, but rather something that was given to me. To know Ezra was a gift. He had a spectacular innocence to him, and was as sweet and kind-hearted a boy as you could ever hope to meet. He touched our lives greatly and has left not only a void, but an indelible and everlasting impact.
Life is fleeting and too often we take it for granted. It can be here one day and gone the next. Less than a week ago Ezra was a happy, healthy and active boy. He came home from school sick one day, and before we had time to fully comprehend what was going on, he was gone. These types of harsh situations remind us to live life more fully and to love more openly.
Friends and family, life is precious and beautiful, please treat it as such. Tell your family, friends and those who surround you that you love them. We certainly love you all.
Tyler and Stacy
P.S. Sorry to get so serious as this is usually not in my demeanor. I spend 90% of my time being sarcastic or just a plain smart ass, and you can still expect that in the next post or comment I leave on your blog. I've just had a tough time sleeping tonight and decided that I wanted to express some thoughts to someone, somewhere. Doing so has been cathartic.
