Without a Word_ How a Boy's Unspoken Love Changed Everything - Jill Kelly [46]
Hunter’s getting longer and heavier but I can still carry him. I’d carry him even if I couldn’t. If I could pack him in a backpack and take him everywhere with me, I would. I can’t get enough of that incredible kid.
August 28, 2003—What a whirlwind the last four days have been. Mark Schultz [a Christian recording artist] was in town for the Buffalo Bills game and he came over and performed a few songs for us. Our favorite is “He’s My Son.” As usual, we were crying.
A few days ago Hunter went horseback riding on Bambi out at Aunt Chris’s barn. He also went fishing and stopped over at Aunt Dodie’s house to visit her pet bird, Quaker, and her dog, Peanut. I think Hunter liked Quaker, especially when he started talking.
We’ve discovered that Ellen [Hunter’s nurse] loves taking pictures just as much as my mother and I do. She’s already given me a few mini photo albums filled with pictures that captured moments I was unable to.
What a great gift photos are. I treasure photos of Hunter because in the back of my mind, I know they will comfort me and jog my memory when Hunter has left this earthly place. You can never have too many pictures, especially of Hunterboy. Every picture, even the bad ones (if there is such a thing)—all of them are precious reminders of Your faithfulness, Lord.
Hunter has another loose tooth. He’s six years old. I can’t believe it.
October 22, 2003—Robert [Hunter’s best friend] came over today with his mom. This is their second play date this month, and he’s coming over on Halloween, too. Hunter loves being with his best friend more than he enjoys being with anyone else. I’m speechless when it comes to those two boys. When they get together it’s as if the entire world around them vanishes and they’re the only two people in the world.
Robert has introduced Hunter to the kind of silly boy stuff I would’ve never even considered for him, like mismatched socks, gooey bugs, silver astronaut blankets and space food, Bionicles and erupting volcanoes (oops, I think Jaden, my cousin Jessica’s son, introduced HB to volcanoes)—all sorts of adventurous fun. What an unprecedented friendship. I’ve never witnessed anything like it.
You have done immeasurably more than we could’ve ever asked or imagined through their friendship. Thank You for Robert and his mother, Elizabeth. They are amazing people. I never thought Hunter would experience the blessing of a best friend, but he has, and I can’t thank You enough.
November 3, 2003 (Children’s Hospital)—Leg x-rays and a full cast put on. Why, God—why? Doesn’t Hunter already have enough to deal with? Now he has a broken femur. What in the world is going on?
I’m not going to let anyone touch him ever again. Two major bones broken in the last six months. This is ridiculous. How’s he going to take a bath with a cast on? All this suffering is making me sick.
I know I should be thankful that he’s still here, but I’m so drained from all this brokenness in his body and in my heart. It’s not about me—I get that. It’s not even about Hunter; it’s about Your glory and will. Not having an answer to my nagging doubts drives me crazy. Father, I need Your lap and Your loving arms wrapped around me. Hunter needs You.
On December 13, 2003, Hunter was taken by ambulance to Children’s Hospital. On the fifteenth, Hunter was put on a ventilator. At approximately 4:00 a.m. on the sixteenth, as I journaled the desperation of my soul like never before, a certain peace came over me and I was confident Hunter would make it home one more time. It was then that I began to think back on the extraordinary chain of events that had brought our family to this moment—the events you have just read about.
I’m convinced that the peace I felt and the assurance I had that Hunter would survive came from God; and indeed, despite his frailty and the evil downward spiral of Krabbe symptoms, Hunter’s determined little body resisted surrender