Purpose

Readers wrote

This post is a loose translation from Hebrew.  Recently I received the following blue text from a loyal reader of this blog:

Different philosophies/theories/thoughts claim that we arrived into this world for a certain reason.  That each and every one of us supposed to leave some sort of mark on this world (during his/her lifetime). 

And I was wondering:
Why did Liam had to go through this specific track in life, with all the associated suffering?

When you see how many people she touched;
What kind of change she made in their hearts;
The marks that she left on them;
Something becomes clear to me:  Things did not happen randomly.  It's all for a reason.

And if there's any consolation, maybe it is what Liam left here before moving on to a different world:
Simple joy.
Unconditional acceptance.
Love.
An incredible "instinct" or sense for life.    (Sorry, no good translation here...)
(The writer referred more to Liam's 14 years prior to the last, most difficult year of her life.)
My reply went something like this:

As you know, I'm not a big fan of such philosophies.  I think that since the [prehistoric] days that humanity just started people tried to find answers to the questions:
How did we come here?
Why are we here?
Where are we going when we die?
Etc., etc., etc.
And we will continue to ask those questions until, well, forever.  And, just like we didn't get anywhere with the answer in all those millions of years we're on earth, it's most unlikely, in my opinion, that we will never find answers any for them.  Definitely not in our lifetime.  (Well, never say never, but you get the idea.)  Thus, this is just a waste of time to bring those philosophies up and discuss them.  Just my opinion.

On the other hand, I realize that those who discuss such outlooks are completely equal to me both in their opinion and their knowledge.  We're equally all in the darkness of the unknown.  I don't have the right (and neither the wish) to criticize others' thoughts.  I realize that some of us "have to" feel "something" regarding our existence and find a reason for everything.  I'm not one of those.  Thus, I don't really care for these philosophies.  I simply live my life ignoring them.  And this, by the way, is MY entire philosophy about life:  I simply live them.  Period.  There's nothing to add here.  And when die, I'll simply die.  End of story.

(And in parenthesis and really not meant as criticism:   Maybe, just maybe this is how god, The God, you know, is being created?  We - human beings in general, not myself - feel or sense things that we don't understand completely or can't explain and have no way of finding out anything about them.  We make up answers and explanations and interpretations to things clearly beyond our grip.  And then we get used to our own creations and we pass them on generation to generation.  And on the way, throughout the thousands of years, some original meaning is getting lost and some new interpretations are being introduced.  And there you have it:  A new belief system, a religion. And I'm sure, oh yeah, I'm sure, that your rabbi or guru or bishop or imam (etc.) has the full explanation of what's happening in the "afterlife".  But, do they really know more than you and I?  How so?  Do you really believe so?  But, we're getting off track here.)

Back to Liam and the blue text above:
There are many people who leave an incredible mark on this world:  Napoleon, Muhammad Ali, Mahatma Gandhi, Kennedy....the list is long.  We don't have any answers where they came from, how they become who they were, or where they have gone (not including Ali, yet...)  Or, what ever happened to their soul (if there's is such a thing - their soul).  This all has to do with how I started this reply:  We have no idea where, what, why.  And that's the way it will stay forever. 
All that is left for me is to feel fortunate, incredibly fortunate, that I had Liam.  I leave the reasons why she came into this world and where she went to the philosophers among us.  Except for straight forward, scientific, medical explanations, I can't explain why she "had to" go through all the suffering.  It is what it is.  I don't spend time thinking about it.  I remember the good and happy Liam, not the suffering Liam of the past several months.  And I hope that this is the way it will stay and that the rest [of the bad stuff] will blow away with the wind.

Maybe what helps me to think of her as such, is because I was there, right next to her, in many of those suffering moments.  I mean, long hours.  I tried my best to help.  In the few moments that she was relieved of the pain, we took a breath.  We didn't ask why or what or how.  We just took a breath.  At some point, it was clear that there was little we could do to help beyond sedative medication.  When we decided to enter hospice - or, in blunt words: to end her life - our only wish was that she will never experience suffering again.  Not even for one thousandth of a second.  When she gave her last breath in this world, the suffering died too and for me there's no reason to look back.  For the entire last year we looked for a reason for the suffering.  We never found any.  Now it's time to move on and remember just the good times.  Enough with the bad stuff.

But, since we're already on the subject,  I don't see any  connection between the lesson she taught us all  and the suffering she went through.  In other words, she would have left the same incredible mark on us even without the suffering.  She was a special person.  Special people don't have to go through stuff in order to shine their light on the rest of us.  That's part of what makes them so special.

 There are those who are still looking for [other] answers:  What did Liam had?  Why did she went from a healthy, happy child to being really sick?  How suddenly she had blood and kidney problems?  What did she dies of?  Etc., etc., etc.  I don't give a damn about any of these questions.  Water under the bridge.  Had they performed autopsy on her, maybe it would have been interesting to know.  But they didn't (and we never talked about it and I'm glad we didn't.  I don't think it would have revealed anything.  And even if they did, what then?  She's gone, why is it important to know?)  When Liam was just born and arrived an NICU, somebody started a research of why she was born the way she did.  While I completely support the scientific aspect of such research, as a dad I didn't want or need it.  It already belonged to the past at that time.  She was already here.  All that was left was to see that she stays here.

To me the question is not "what happened" to Liam but quite the opposite:  With a malformed brain to begin with, which was additionally being attacked by tens of seizures a day, and after numerous difficult surgeries and other illnesses - after all of that (and really, much more) - how come Liam was still the positive, loving, laughing person that she was?  In the very last few months of her life, or maybe after she passed, I think that the medical field started also realizing we have something special here.  Nobody has an answer to the above for it cannot be measured in the lab, or viewed in an X-ray or MRI images, neither can it be listen to or smelled.  But really, it's not that important.  What IS important is the incredible presence she gave us and the memories she left.  What a gift.  I wouldn't want it to be any different (less her suffering, of course). 

A few months after Liam was born and the magnitude of her problems was known, somebody said how lucky she was to be born to parents like Rachel and myself.  Over the year I started feeling the same, just opposite:  How lucky we are to had her.

The Queen of Bicycle

Back in 2004 and 2005, a year before a major orthopedic surgery, which changed her life for ever, Liam was a very active rider.  When we went to the track on Saturday mornings, she used to go 2-3 full rounds.  That's nearly 1 kilometer.  Most of it was her pedaling by herself.  She would need some help here and there.  
In spring of 2005 Mery Lin Elementary had their annual Linapalooza talent show.  When we asked Liam if she wanted to perform, there was no hesitation.  "YES" with a big smile.  We rehearsed maybe once - because it was just too difficult to get the bike and Liam on the stage with no ramp.  There was also the question of timing:  how could she wait for her exact show time behind the stage, if we could not get her wheelchair there?  Crucial details that "typical" people are never aware of.  Anyway, these are all details which made it just most difficult and challenging - like most other things in her life. 

But when we finally made it up on the stage for showtime, all those concerns melted away (except for the thought of how to keep her safe, how we would take her off the stage, etc.)  The following video clip is not of a great quality, sorry.  I don't know if the viewer can sense the atmosphere in the school auditorium.  It was electrifying. I was on stage with Liam so I couldn't see much, but I was told that people in the crowd cried.  You have to understand:  Prior to this performance most kids and parents saw Liam in her wheelchair, saying hello to everybody, but not very active otherwise.  In the playground, after school, she would be tired.  Her head would start falling, she would drool.  That's the picture most of the people had of Liam.  And all of the sudden they see her on stage, pedaling like crazy to the beat of catchy music.  The place went crazy!
It might be a bit hard to tell because of the poor quality of the clip, but try to observe the expression on Liam's face.  It was priceless.



  

Liam montage

Produced by Giana Perrone and Meitav Vilensky.  Thank you girls.  Great job.

A mound of dirt

Back Blogging

After Liam passed away and after we sat Shiv`ah, I didn't lose appetite for writing, but I did lose appetite for thinking.  And when I don't think, I don't think I can write.  Well, the well is not completely dry, so every now and then I'm hoping to post something.  This blog will stay alive, although maybe not as frequent a when Liam was still here.  So here we go again.


A mound of dirt

My first ever visit to a cemetery, if you can really call it a visit, was when I was in 5th grade or so.  Well, maybe it wasn't my first visit, just the first visit worth remembering.  Eh, I meant the visit that was difficult to forget.

It was a dark night in the northern Israeli valley where I grew up, like most nights in this agricultural region.  We
made our way through the alfalfa field.  Night activity was something we did as young kids on a regular basis.  Parts of it was fun and interesting - like identifying other settlements in the area based on their lights or learning the stars, sitting by the bonfire and singing songs.  But other activities were scary and in retrospect, plain stupid.  They tried to make soldiers of us at a young age and prepare us for never-ending war situation.  Anyway, I'm getting off the subject here.  On that specific night we made our way through the alfalfa field (which was full of snakes) to the edge of the cemetery.  The assignment was to enter the cemetery, two by two, and "observe the ghosts".  I'm pretty sure that no ghosts showed up that night.  While we were scared as hell, nothing really happened (DOH!).  Just a bunch of boring graves.
In later years I passed in or next to the cemetery many many time.  I was there either to bury someone from the community or simply because I passed there on my tractor as I was working in a nearby field. Even though I knew most of the people buried there, I could never feel any emotions when visiting there. The tombs were always the same, silent, boring.

Even before Liam left us, we started discussing the funeral.  I was for cremation.  Liam is in my heart, I said.  I don't need a meaningless, cold, slab of stone.  And on top of that, in a Jewish cemetery.  (Which begs the question:  Why us, the still living, "paste" our religion to the dead?  Why put a cross or a Magen David on the tomb?  When somebody picks a religion, he/she does it from a point of belief.  And belief is a matter of the heart.  Well, what if the heart is not pumping any more?  Who gave us the right to make a choice for the deceased? And, what if the deceased was not following a certain religion in the first place?  Wait, I think I got it:  the rabbis, priests, imams, etc. can only lure you into their religion if you believe them.  If you don't believe, nothing would help them.  But the dead, they don't argue about the religion any more.  They're too tired.  So the religious preachers get a freebie. In other words, when my time comes, go ahead and cremate me.  I don't want to give the religion "pasters" this pleasure.)  The number one reason I'm happy with Liam's new residency is that just outside the cemetery gate is the location of Nuevo Laredo.  (Poor girl, taco was one of her favorite foods...now all she can do is smell smell smell.)   Are you still following?  The subject was burial versus cremation.
But thoughts and reality are two different things.  Recently I visited Liam's grave - just a small mound of dirt at this point - for the first time since the funeral.  As soon as I entered that section of the cemetery, I was taken by emotions.  It was as if I was right there at the funeral.  Gone was the one month of "recovery" and all the dry-by-now Kleenex's.  Just a mound of dirt.  Strange.


A cup of coffee
A piece of cake.  A glass of beer.  A football game.  Gathering with friends.  All represent enjoyable things.  Things that bring us pleasure and costs us no effort.  Many of them we just take for granted. Liam, too, loved the good life and enjoyed food and friends like the rest of us.  The difference is that for Liam, even the most elementary things took a huge toll of effort on her side:  feeding herself with a utensil, playing on the computer, driving her wheelchair, baseball - just to name a few.  If you think about it, Liam's life was one big effort - from her first breath to the last.  No exaggeration.  Liam, however, despite the fact that she invested huge amounts of energy in every small hand movement that the rest of us take for granted, did not see it that way.  She simply enjoyed the minute, the food, the bite, the song.  She didn't think about the future or the past; she made no comparisons; she lived the moment - every moment. It's an important perspective to all of us as we stir the coffee.  One sugar, a lot of milk, please.