Chandra's Journal
October 26, 2006
I did the right thing, by going to the funeral. I might not ever know how much of an impact I had on Carla – only Carla would know that – but it felt good to me to be there.
It was surreal. From the plane landing in Little Rock to stepping foot back in Amarillo. It started in the Josephson’s car on the way from the airport to their house Tuesday night. Mrs. Josephson told me that she talked to her sister, Tessie (goes to church with me) on the phone Sunday night and said, “We had a sad thing happen in our church family this weekend.” Without mentioning names, she told Tessie about Canon Norman. Tessie responded with sympathy and, without mentioning names, told her sister about my Canon’s recent liver transplant. Neither one realizing that the boys shared a special name or that Carla and I had already been in contact, or that they would be graciously putting me up in their home two nights later. What if we knew all the little connections that God already knows?
It rained all day Wednesday. Carla told me that she looked out the window that morning and thought, “This is just my luck.”
From the moment the alarm went off that morning I had knots in my stomach. Even in the shower I was still praying, “God, what am I doing here? I don’t know what to say.” One foot in front of the other, all the way to the church building. I signed the book, recognizing the name above mine from the website guestbook. Another surreal feeling. I sat down, and Mr. Josephson came in right behind me and joined me on the back pew. There were about 10 minutes left before it was supposed to start when he leaned over to me and said, “Carla is right there behind us in the lobby. Do you want me to go introduce you to her real quick?” I panicked. I could see her back there, dressed in a black pantsuit, a face I knew already from her smiling pictures on the websites, but now a face teetering on the brink – lips pursed, brow furrowed, eyes closed – trying so hard to keep it together. I looked back and forth between him and her and stuttered a few incomprehensible excuses before he gave me a little smile and said, “That’s okay, there will be plenty of time later.” Whew. I don’t know if I thought I couldn’t talk to her until God dropped a script down from the sky for me or what, but I just felt so inadequate.
The service was beautiful. I can’t imagine a better tribute to Canon. There was a very sweet slide show of pictures from the time he was a tiny baby up to right before the transplant. The preacher gave a moving tribute to the little boy who shook his hand on Sunday mornings. He spoke of David losing his baby and gave an insightful look into the 23rd Psalm. Have you ever noticed that David goes from talking about God to talking to God? Here is where he switches over – (v.3) “He guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. (v.4) Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for YOU are with me.” Just the thought of the valley of the shadow of death made David pull God in closer.
Then they showed an interview with Carla done by the Discovery Channel right before Canon’s transplant. It was done in the Cardiac Care Playroom in the hospital, where Canon was playing with other children before they took him back. It was very emotional for me to see. I probably was the only one there who had actually never seen anything but still photographs of Canon. Watching him laugh and throw a beach ball and hug his mom… made him that much more real to me. In the interview Carla told about how scared Canon was of the pager that would go off when they found a new heart for him. She said occasionally the alarm clock would go off and Canon would panic and ask, “Is it time?!” and they would calm him down and convince him it was not the pager. She said that he frequently asked her if she could be the one to take his old heart out and give him the new one. Even now, sitting here remembering that still makes me cry. I understand the bond between a mother and her little boy. They both want to protect the other. They were so close.
After they played the video, a boy approached the microphone. I gathered he was probably Chase’s age, but a close friend of the whole family. The preacher came to help him adjust the microphone height and he began to read a letter. “Dear Canon, I’ll never forget the time we went…” and that was about as much as he got out before he choked up and cried through the rest of the letter. It was absolutely gut-wrenching. He rushed through many memories, trying to read the words through his tears. No child should know this kind of loss. He did a wonderful job. When he finished, I’m sure every person in there wanted to follow him to his seat and hug him.
Then a long-time friend of Carla’s, Kim, came to the microphone to read her own memories of Canon and special thoughts for Carla. This particular friend was with her from the beginning – when a sonogram confirmed that Canon would be born with a heart defect known as Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome and Carla was told that he would need a series of three surgeries to correct the problem. Kim reflected how devastated Carla was at that moment, how emotional. The doctor said to her that day, “Don’t give up on this little guy.” From that day on, Carla never gave up on Canon. She always believed that he would make it and gave him every good thing in life she could offer him. She told Kim that day that he would need a strong name because he would have to be a fighter. Of course I just bawled hearing that. It must truly be a special name for God to have put it on Carla’s heart that day, knowing the road ahead for Canon, and for Him to give it also to me and Drew almost three years ago, having no idea what lay in the future for our little boy. Kim talked about what an incredible mother Carla has been to all three of her children, living in the hospital for many months on and off with Canon, only leaving to attend an activity for Chase or Kamryn. The more I learned about Carla that day, the more amazed I became. Through many hardships over their few years, she has been the rock for them. After teaching a full day of fourth grade, she kept a second job in the evenings at a shoe store to support her family by herself. Suffice it to say, the more I heard through the day about all she’s been through, the more I wished I could just take her to a cruise ship or something and send her on a vacation for a couple of months.
After the service concluded, I filed out silently with everyone else. I still hadn’t met anyone at this point. I knew that Teresa would be expecting me, but I had no idea what she looked like and thought she probably didn’t have any idea what I looked like either. So, Mr. Josephson kept an eye out for Scarlet, one of Carla’s friends at the Levy Church of Christ, who he could ask to point us to Teresa. When he spotted Scarlet, I was introduced to her and Tawney, another friend there at the church. When Mr. Josephson started to explain, “This is Chandra Perkins, she’s from…” Scarlet interrupted and hugged me saying, “I know exactly who you are. We are thrilled that you would come all this way for Carla.” I just burst into tears, still wondering what good I was going to do if I couldn’t even hold it together for her friends. Scarlet immediately brought Teresa to me. Teresa came quickly saying, “I’ve been looking for you! I looked at your picture on your Canon’s website so I could find you today.” We just hugged each other and cried as if we had known each other forever. I just kept saying, “I’m so sorry.” We dabbed our eyes as the pallbearers came out with the casket (God, I hate all these funeral words). We watched silently as they put him in the car. Teresa said, “Chandra, can you stay to talk to Carla? Can you ride with me over to the cemetery?” Scarlet told her, “We’ll take Chandra with us, and then bring her back here to eat lunch with Carla before she has to get to the airport.” So, thankfully, I was whisked away under the capable wings of Scarlet and Tawney (an ACU alum).
The rain was sprinkling over the cemetery when we arrived and did not stop. It was not a drenching rain. It was one of those rains that didn’t draw attention to itself, but drowned out the noise of the highway and made the world around us quiet. As people congregated at the covered area where we would pray, a flock of geese flew directly overhead, appropriately and peacefully paying their respects to a boy that would have marveled at that sight.
After the short tribute and prayer by their preacher, Gary, we were dismissed to greet the family and then return to the church building for lunch. Teresa found me quickly and said, “I want to introduce you to Carla.” Again, I panicked. At this moment, Carla, Chase, and Kamryn were out of their seats, placing roses on Canon’s casket. It was one of those moments, you know? That you don’t mess with. Like when Misty was alone with Ethan’s casket after their service. I know I joined Misty then, but I’m an outsider here. In every sense of the word. I felt jolted by the image of Mary, the mother of Jesus, fallen at the foot of the cross, in the last moments when He told John to take care of her. This was a mother and her baby. It was a sacred, Madonnaesque moment. I felt no business there at all. I hesitated, I hung a step behind Teresa as she approached Carla and whispered some kind of introduction. I looked up to see Carla’s eyes lift to mine and her arms open wide. I hugged her and said nothing as she buried her face in my shoulder, weeping. I cried and cried with her, feeling all of the injustices of Canon, Amberly, Jordan, Ethan, all at once. I don’t know how long we stood there crying with each other. I was so thankful that I was there – it was exactly the right time and place. I felt like an action figure that God picked up and put somewhere else in the world because I belonged right there, right then. It was another very surreal moment, two worlds colliding. Few things were said there – as it should be. Carla then turned and called for her mother. “Meme”, who we also grew to love on Canon’s website, after Carla said “This is Chandra,” also melted into a sobbing hug with me. She loves him so much and was hurting so badly.
For all the digging my heels in that I was doing that morning, God was able to get me to the right place at exactly the right time. Praise God.
I met several other friends in the moments following. I got to visit briefly with Heather, who connected us to this family in the first place. It was her email to my parents’ congregation in Austin that brought Carla and Canon to my attention. She was also used by God, and I’m so grateful for her part in changing my life this way. Some friends approached me and introduced themselves saying things like, “So, you’re Chandra?” or “You’re the one who flew in from Texas?” and “You’re the one from the website?” They were all very gracious and thankful. Several times I would explain that there is really nothing special about me: I have no magical words at all. I only felt strongly that God was telling me to come, so I came. If my presence helped at all, don’t thank me, thank God.
It was at the lunch that I was able to sit down with Carla and really talk. I was so honored that she wanted me to get a plate and sit next to her. Most of the actual meal was spent in casual talk with the three other people sitting with her at this particular round table. But as she started asking me specific questions about my Canon – his diagnosis, medications, etc., the others wandered off and eventually it was just the two of us at the table. I was able to give her the journal at that time, along with a letter from Drew that I stuck inside. She seemed very pleased to have it. We spent the next 20 minutes or so deep in conversation about faith, grief, logic and the lack of, prayer, and other pillars that were shaken so totally when Canon died. She made desperate comments like “I don’t know how to go on,” and “I feel so lost.” It was my response to those comments that I felt like was the most important thing I could offer that day. I told her that I had felt the same way when we lost Amberly. Well-meaning people would say, “God just needed another angel in Heaven.” That comment infuriated me (because first of all, God doesn’t NEED anything), and early on I decided that I could not worship a God who would strike a child down. And so I believe with all my heart that He was not the one that took her away from me. Satan did. And as strongly as I believe that I also believe that God was crying with me the whole time. And though Satan succeeded in threatening my faith as ultimately as it ever will be (I pray), God won that war. My daughter is safe now, Satan cannot ever hurt her, and my faith is stronger than ever. Yes, I know that God could have stopped the whole thing, but I really try not to dwell on that anymore. When I do, I feel the anger coming back. It’s futile to try to comprehend His ways. As I was explaining that this is how I was able to go on, I saw Carla nodding, internalizing. She said that she liked looking at it that way. I know that many other things were said in those moments, but oddly enough, I don’t remember them well enough to write down. I know that we sat there, two wounded mothers, hand-in-hand, discussing things deep in the heart, taking turns, sharing our tears, and since I can’t remember much, I can only pray that the Spirit was there, too.
Many people hugged me as I realized that it was past time for me to go. Gary, the preacher, kindly volunteered to escort me to the Christian school where I was to meet my ride to the airport. At the last minute, Scarlet wanted to take my picture with Carla and Meme. Meme wanted to introduce me to two other family members. I hugged Aunt Tonya, friend Kim, said goodbye to Chase and Kamryn.
And then I left.
In the airport, I bought a Little Rock sweatshirt for $20. I held it in my lap all the way home.
The trip changed me, fundamentally. I let my heart get involved in a story on the computer that suddenly turned into real life. Carla’s not just a picture; she’s a devoted, HARD-working mother in a pit of grief. Chase and Kamryn are not just pictures; they are vibrant, beautiful children that run with their friends and cling to their mother’s side. Meme is not just a picture; she’s a grandmother with a lifetime of stories all her own, watching a daughter she loves fight desperately to get out of a tangled mess of injustices. The friends are real. They love Carla, cry with her, and any one of them would give anything for life to be easier on her.
They’re all real. They’re all amazing. And they all need God to show up right now.
Thank you for praying for my trip. I felt God’s blessing the entire time. Thank you for the affirming words that you left for me on Canon’s guestbook. I was given extra strength when I remembered that I could be the “be there” person, Laura. Cindy, Mona, Gail, Mary, Diana, Elana, Susan, Linda, Tiffany, Karla… thank you so much for sharing your hearts with us on the guestbook (and Seanne, in your email). Every time I would feel doubts creep in, my confidence was renewed and encouraged every time another one of you would leave a rally cry for me. It was more than enough to make me feel as though I was actually not alone in my journey, but was accompanied by many praying friends. And be assured that I did tell Carla that each of you sent your hearts and prayers with me. Excuse me for speaking directly to Laura and Mary, but… I need to tell you how awed I was at your willingness to help with the cost of the trip. Absolutely in awe. May God bless you enormously for your generous hearts. We will, in complete gratitude, decline the offer for a couple of reasons. First, my friend Jennifer’s dad (a frequent flyer), without expectation at all, gave us one of his tickets at the last minute and we were able to pay him a fraction of what it was actually worth. Thank God for him. Second, Drew and I want to encourage you to send whatever amount you were considering to Carla, instead. This is now a general plea to anyone reading this. The numbers are personal and staggering, I’m sure (I don’t know them). And please know that Carla never mentioned any of her own financial needs to me. Other people did, though, on her behalf. Out of respect for her, I don’t want to exaggerate her situation. But the facts are that she supports her kids by herself with two jobs that she has not been able to do for the last six weeks. Enter medical and funeral bills. After speaking with others there, it was clear that the best way to help her financially right now is to write a check to the Levy Church of Christ and designate it for Carla Norman. That way, your money will be given immediately to Carla and, because it funneled through a church, will be tax-deductible. Here is the address:
Levy Church of Christ
5124 Camp Robinson Road
North Little Rock, Arkansas 72116
I won’t forget Canon, his fight, or his family. I won’t forget the short journey two states away. Did it have a big impact on Carla’s perspective of the day or the future? I don’t know. Only Carla knows. But in one journey, I understood better the reluctance Moses felt when he told God, “But I’m not a good speaker,” the mysterious draw that the apostles must have felt when Jesus said, “Follow me,” the desperate need for God’s guidance much like David often felt, and the loyalty and sisterhood of Ruth and Naomi. I don’t doubt the part that God plays in my daily life, or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not anything special – I know He does it all the time. I just get to write about it.
Chandra Perkins
I will lead the blind
by ways they have not known,
along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn the darkness into light before them
and make the rough places smooth.
These are the things I will do;
I will not forsake them.
Isaiah 42:16