Brian's Legacy

Last week I lost a good friend, Brian Gomez. In August 2009, at age 19, he was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma, a childhood cancer that is particularly rare, especially in people over the age of 10. Last summer, it was in his sinuses and had already spread to his bone marrow - it was categorized as Stage IV. The diagnosis was that it was terminal but that treatment would give him more time. He underwent a year of painful and exhausting chemo and radiation to fight it. At the end of this summer he was feeling relatively well and went back to UVA for school. Within 2 weeks he fell (from a seizure) and the doctors determined that the progression of the cancer had spread to the lining of his brain. Less than a month later, he was gone.

I have been fighting a lot of regret in the last week. We were close in middle school ("boyfriend/girlfriend" actually) and spent hours on AIM chatting. Our lockers were next to each other (Glass and Gomez alphabetically) and he always walked to me to class. Sometimes we even held hands in PE. We went to different high schools but still had a lot of mutual friends and saw each other from time to time. I started dating my 3-year high school boyfriend around the same time he started dating his still-girlfriend (of about 5 years now) Morgan. Basically we both got busy and fell out of touch. It was still always good to see him I just didn't see him nearly as often. Last year I knew he was diagnosed, but didn't know how serious things were. Despite not knowing the details, I KNEW he had cancer, and yet I never reached out to him or let him know I was thinking about him. This week I am learning that there were a lot of people who were there for him in his last year and though I failed miserably, he passed away surrounded by a multitude of selfless love and commitment from his family and close friends. I hate that I wasn't one of those people.

At the funeral his good friend shared a little bit more about watching Brian's faith throughout cancer. How despite his suffering he looked forward to eternity and had peace in his fate. Our response to 'unfair' death tends to be "God, WHY is this happening? WHY Brian? WHY cancer? WHY now?" but when we ask "why" we get nowhere. The question we ought to ask is "WHAT NOW." "What now can I take from Brian's life and learn from?" "What now can I do to bring glory to God despite these trials and this suffering?" The "What now" question has been propelling me throughout this week to be bolder in taking steps to loving others better, to trusting God more, and to find gratitude even in sadness.

I believe we weren't designed for death and pain. At the beginning of humankind we were designed for communion with God and eternal life. At the fall of man, when Adam and Eve sinned in the garden, our souls became innately corrupt and captive to selfish desires, separating us from God. Not only did our souls and our spirits fall away from God's original creation, but our bodies fell victim as well - to decay and to entropy and to sickness and death and cancer. Fortunately we aren't "stuck" in this. Life in eternity is absent of the sadness and pain of death and through Jesus we have full access to this life.

Brian's legacy to me is more than the dozens of saved e-mails I have from 8th and 9th grade. It is more than thinking of him when I hear Metallica or Nirvana. It's more than the $10 locket he got me from Kohl's for Valentine's Day when we were 14. It is even more than the memories of getting in a fender bender as a passenger in his brand new Lancer the week after he got his license or visiting and partying with him in Charlottesville freshman year of college. His legacy to me came mostly in his death - in his graceful act of dying - surrendering his will and his soul with peace and trust. My heart is still attempting to fathom "What now" can I learn from that and how can I apply it?