Cameron

Cameron and I had a conversation the other day about God. He says he doesn't believe anymore. It breaks my heart.  I don't blame him though.  Is that bad?  I don't blame him for questioning our God.  He is 15 years old, and doctors say he will not make it to his 16th birthday this June.

Most of you know, but for those of you who don't know, Cameron is my "main squeeze."  It's a stiff competition between him and David.  When Cameron was just 18 months old, his dad died of melanoma cancer.  Tom was only 35.  My friend Liza was barely 30 years old, a new mom, and now a widow.  As you can imagine, she was a mess.  I remember when Cameron was small.  I use to take care of him.  Liza was a single mom now, and her life had become very difficult.  I took care of Cameron often.  During this time, we grew close.  He was a darling little boy, and had the most beautiful big brown Armenian eyes you had ever seen.  He slowly became the little love of my life.  We went on picnics together, I'd take him to the mall (where all the women fell in love with him), we'd get ice cream, but mostly we would just "cuddle" as Cam would call it.  We had great adventures.

He use to tell me all of the time that he was going to marry me.  He would tell me he was going to marry me and we would have 13 children.  Sometimes I would ask him "how are you going to pay for all of our kids?"  He'd tell me that when he grew up he wanted to drive the big trash trucks he'd seen weekly when the garbage was to be thrown out.  I'd smile.  Cameron always makes me smile.  He was probably about 3 then.

I remember once, we were at the mall...in the Gap.  I can't remember what we were buying, but 3 women came over to tell me, and him, what beautiful eyelashes he had (like I said before, big beautiful Armenian eyes).  He just smiled his big charming smile, and just like that he girls melted.  "Cameron, what do you say?" I quickly interrupted.  He looked at one of the ladies and said "you have very beautiful lips!"  I was looking for a "Thank you," obviously, but he decided a compliment deserved a compliment.  :)  I think he was about 4 or 5 then.

January 6th at around 3 a.m. I got a call from Craig.  Liza was in labor with Corah.  It was what we had been waiting for.  Craig and Liza needed to get to the hospital, so I went to get Cameron.  I remember being so excited that I couldn't wait until he woke up the next morning.  When I was getting him ready for school, I remember his excitement about becoming a big brother.  I took him to school because Liza was in labor for a long time, but I promised him we would get to see the baby soon.  Corah was born the next day, and Cameron was in love.  Corah became the love of HIS life, and I remember watching his eyes light up when he held her.  He was 8.

I have so many more stories like that.  Cameron, quite simply, was the first child I have ever loved.  I even remember telling Liza that I wondered if I would ever love my own children as much as I love him.  I've watched him grow up, seen him lose his first tooth, graduate kindergarten, walk his mommy down the aisle, become a big brother, watched him perform in school programs, learn to play the violin, etc.

What I remember most, and my most fond memories are when we would cuddle and watch movies, or cuddle and read bed time stories.  I'd read one, and he'd ask for another...and when I thought about saying "no," I'd think about how Tom would have given anything to read Cameron a bedtime story...so I'd stay up and read another.  Then, when I'd finally decide it was time for bed, I'd tuck him in "SUNG, as a BUG in a RUG!"  He loved when I would do that.  Then, as I would almost be out of the door, he'd whisper "Samm...will you cuddle with me until I fall asleep?"  And just like that, with his big smile, being a sucker didn't matter, and a moment later the covers were wrapped around us both.  Many times I'd fall asleep too.

September 22, 2011 was one of the worst days of my life.  Cameron had not been his usual self, and was not feeling well.  The doctors thought maybe his equilibrium was off.  Eventually they ordered an MRI.  Once they saw the image, they immediately made Liza take him to CHOC.  They informed her he had a mass on his brain.

I remember the call.  It was 7:30 a.m. and I had JUST pulled into the parking lot at work.  It wasn't normal for me to get phone calls that early.  Cameron was in the hospital.  I remember when I had heard the news of the tumor, I thought to myself  "well, he will just have surgery, and they will take it out.  That's just how it will have to be." 

David and I went to CHOC to be with Cameron, and it was then that we found out he had Intrinsic Pontine Glioma.  An inoperable brain tumor situated on the brain stem.  The condition was fatal.  The doctors gave him 10 months.

My entire world exploded. 

Cameron made it past his 10 month mark.  I contribute it to his optimistic outlook on life, his positive attitude, and his fight.  But now the tumor is growing again, and my poor, sweet boy is in a wheel chair, and doesn't speak.  We communicate via text messages, because that is the easiest way for him.

I took him to the movies the other day.  As I got his wheelchair out of my trunk, and set it up, he just sat in my passenger seat waiting for me.  I had to walk over to him and carry him to the wheelchair. 

My heart is broken.  The same little boy I carried as a small child, I was now carrying to a wheelchair.  How does this happen?  This isn't how it is suppose to work.

I watch Liza take care of Cameron, but she barely speaks.  I cannot imagine her grief.  She is 45 years old and about to lose another person she loves with all of her heart.

I don't know why I am sharing all of this, but it's been so heavy on my heart, and it just feels good to get it out.

After many text messages about this issue, I ended up saying this to Cameron regarding whether or not God exists "Always remember, Cam, people that say they are 100% sure there is a God, are not.  No one is SURE.  It's about faith, and in my case-hope too!  I'm not positive there is a God, but I hope that there is.  Otherwise life is meaningless, and we all just live here to die.  I hope He exists because I hope He hears my prayers, and that he takes care of the people I love, and most importantly (like you say you believe),  I hope with everything inside me that things DO happen for a reason.  Because sometimes everything seems hopeless, and the only thing I have to cling onto is that things have a greater purpose than I can comprehend.  Even if I don't like it."

That's probably not the best, or most politically correct answer, but it's the most honest answer that I have...and I believe with all of my heart that the kindest most loving thing you can do for the people you love is be honest.