A Letter to Superman

Writing this makes it real and I wish it wasn’t.  I wish that my heart wasn’t broken thinking of all the things that could be, broken for those I love that are also hurting, broken for the great loss we all suffer.  The only consolation I find in this is that he has recieved his eternal reward- a reward far sweeter than anything we can understand here on Earth.  His broken body is made new, every ounce of his suffering has been removed.  Zane has achieved victory through our Lord Jesus Christ, and I’m happy that I will someday see his sweet face again.    But I miss him, Lord knows I do.  And it hurts like hell.

I’ve had these images of him from the last couple of months and I realize how precious they are.  How much joy and sadness they simotaneiously bring right now.  Joy for knowing this sweet, precious person, sadness for knowing that we’re left here to carry on without him.  Reminders of who he was and what he walked through.

These are from our first visit to Duke, about a week or so after the artificial heart transplant (May 2015).

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After several months (and a mile long list of serious complications later) we were able to make it back out to Duke to see him again.  This was a little over two weeks ago.  It hurt my heart to see how much he had endured- how much he was determined to endure to make it back home.

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And then, yesterday morning, the Lord called Zane home.  And we’re all left broken, and missing him.  And I think about all the things that I will never get to see him do, all the memories he won’t be there for.  I think about my daughter, and how I pray to God that she remembers him, how special he was, how much he loved her.  I pray that I can be a good steward of his memory for her and others.  And in my memories I won’t see him sick.  In my memories I will always remember him like this:

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Always happy, always smiling, always abiding in joy.  Laughing at my awkward jokes, at his goofy cousin, or at my wild little girl.  When people are taken home young, when they suffer great burdens (physical or otherwise), we always are left wondering why.  I believe with all my heart that his life (and death) were purposed.  Even through our grief the Lord is working.  He’s changing us, showing us, and leading us.  John 9:1-3, I will always think of Zane when I read that verse.  Always.

I love you buddy, and I miss you so much my chest aches.  You really were our own Superman.  I will never forget your strength, kindness, or sweet spirit.  I can’t wait until I see you again ❤

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