September is Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month. Day 28 of my celebration of Nick.

January 12, 1987 – rest in peace, my beautiful, sweet Nicholas Daniel Lesser.

Nick came into the world surrounded by love and left the world in the same way. At 10:40pm on Monday January 12, 1987, Nick passed away at the age of 8. He died at home with my mom, my dad, me and our dog Nellie surrounding him. He graced this earth for exactly 100 months. I remember after he was gone my dad carrying me back upstairs so I could go to sleep. I honestly do not think I slept much that night. It was a revolving door for a bit as people came in and out. Some moments do not need to be shared further than their current keeping place. Those tender moments with him during the act of dying, immediately after and the following morning, are close to my heart and will stay there for safe keeping for a lifetime.

I remember a friend of mine, Sarah, telling me a story about the outside looking in on that time. On Tuesdays, we had music class in the morning. When the students entered music class, Sarah said the teacher, whose name I cannot recall, told the class she had good news and bad news. Sarah scanned the room and noticed I was not there and immediately knew what the bad news was and it was confirmed when it was announced that Nick had passed away. That teacher then announced the good news - she was pregnant. And something Sarah said to me has always stuck with me all these years. Even at that age, she felt it was odd the teacher chose to tell the class that day that she was pregnant; in the same sentence as she announced Nick’s death. It just somehow did not feel right. Sarah always showed empathy and compassion; way before empathy became a more powerful word than sympathy. Sarah grew up to be an oncologist.
“Grew up” – Sarah grew up, I grew up, our cousins grew up, Nick’s friends grew up. . .yet Nick never grew up; Nick is frozen in time at age 8. And still today, 30 years later, 20% of pediatric cancer patients do not survive. Childhood cancer is the number one disease killer of children in the US and the second leading cause of death (behind accidents) for children ages 5-15. The average age of death for a child with cancer is 8 years old. I find that ironic, because Nick was anything but average yet that is an average he hit.

I knew Nick was gone and could understand what death meant but what I couldn’t understand was why. Even with the benefit of age and life experience, I still do not understand why and at some point, I stopped asking and looking for answers. But as a 10 year old, as much as you know what death is, how do you fully comprehend it? Life was changed and would never be the same. I watched my parents grieve, my extended family grieve, our neighbors grieve and the extended community grieve. I tried to make sense of everything but how? How do you come to grip with the fact that a very young age you are smacked in the face by the reality that life isn’t always perfect and can be changed forever? How can you make sense of a world where an innocent child dies?

I realize for those that have been on this journey with me through the month that you might be thinking, I ended early, for September is not over. But I ask that you stay with me. For this story is not over. In fact, for those left behind, a new story began because the pain and grief took on a completely new meaning as we began to navigate life without Nick.