"One fine day in the middle of the night, two dead boys got up to fight. Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other." Some might call these anonymous words "scripture," while others will fight that it is "nonsense". I was one of the few to read it as a subliminal message and told my boyfriend about it, knowing he would be able to disembowel the jumbled meaning. Who knew that one day these insensible strings of words would have so much depth to our lives? How could one predict the sudden twenty-four seven cliff-hanger they call cancer? They don't have scripture or boot camps or kids shows that could possibly prepare you for the incredibly agonizing fall from life or have to sit by and watch, with everything to prevent the tragic landing out of grasp.
Matty
Is
My
Lifeline.
I would murder for him, die for him, anything. He doesn't know the extent I would go for him or for anything he needed. If he wanted the inner core of the Earth, I would stride through Hell and personally rip it from the depths of the world. He could ask me to quit everything in New York and move to Tibet, as long as I got to be with him. I would give him my soul if it meant that he could get better. I would give up the Gift in exchange for Matt. He is the only reason I live today. He is the one to push me forward and propel me to my limits. I'm Jewish so, I don't believe in the Son, but if me believing would have fixed Matty, I would have been the most devout believer. Romans 12:9 is the only line I've read that means something to my life by simply stating, "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good." Matty says it's my Bible verse, something that appeals to my life and the only "Jesus worshipping part of me." He's the only one that really accepted what was happening with me when I bluntly told him.
Living in 1987 gave us limited options for what we could do. Matty was one of the dead boys. He was trying to fight, but the other boy had a bigger hand in this round and was winning. I thought then that the dead boy was the damn sickness. Boy, was I wrong. The long nights of disgusting battles ripping him to shreds took it's toll on the Campbell family. At first, he never wanted me to see him when he was really bad. That lasted about a year, then gave into my bickering.
Matt was the leading man in our year. Everyone loved him because he was such a good guy and so great to be around. He was one of the star athletes at our school and no one would challenge him otherwise. I remember going to every one of his games and thinking, "how could I be this lucky?" He was so healthy and strong and loved then.
Hodgkin's lymphoma is the cancer of the immune system. As it spreads, attacking lymphatic system, it threatens and spikes at the body's ability to fight infections and battle certain diseases. Symptoms include fatigue, fever, chills, loss of appetite and increased sensitivity to the effects of alcohol. We found out late. Sarah thought he had the flu and it was too expensive at the time to run tests. She finally was able to get him help when his ancestors began to pull at him from the other side. Anyone that tells Sarah she was wrong for waiting so long is inconsiderate, abhorrent, vacuous, and had never met her. She's the most selfless person I know. She would go to the depths of the Earth for her kids and do anything for their safety. I would follow that woman into battle without a second of thought.
The Campbell's are mainly devout Catholics. I love to hear how highly they cherish faith and hold God on a pedestal of his own. I'm not saying I don't feel the same about the big man in the sky, but I have my doubts. Like, how could he plague this family of pure saints with such a poor fate for their eldest son. I knew he was real because, how could the other side be so riddled with the judgement of passing without him? All I can think of when they are screaming at each other about what step to take next and when the Earth will crumble underneath Matt, taking him forever, is the love is sincere and we should hate was is evil, like the deafening force pulling him away, and cling to what time we have left - the good. They all want to help and push him up, away from the yanking grip of death, and all they're doing is exhausting the boy and his immune system. Sarah's rosary is terrifyingly worn and if you look close enough, it's like the prayers are cracking through the small beads. The first time I witnessed her lose a bead was Matt's first MRI. We came home early from a baseball game because he passed out on the field. That was also a day that Sarah gave me a rosary. She said that even if I wasn't catholic, it would help protect me and those I prayed for.
I couldn't help but feel oddly towards God. He was ripping Matt from this family and had the guts to give me the Gift. He had the guts to send reapers knocking at the doorstep and sending me to this family, that I love as my own, to watch as they tried taking him.