I was at a memorial service of a man I had never met yet felt so close to. Kelly McKay was 25 when he passed away this week. His sister, Dana, and I had classes together last year and bonded over her love and admiration of her courageous, goofy, fun loving big brother.
Kelly had spent most of his life sick. First cancer at the age of 4. Another at the age of 7. A full bone marrow transplant shortly after that. Now early into his twenties and sick again. Dana would come in to class each day eager to share Kelly's progress with us. We all learned to adore this guy! Such an off beat, life loving, fun dude. Their love was incredibly evident and inspiring.
Today I found myself walking around amongst a sea of unknown faces, all mourning the loss of somebody you just knew was a special individual. I found myself envious of them in a strange way. Hearing their words and seeing the memorabilia. I was wishing I had the privilege of knowing this person too! An odd but beautiful feeling.
I looked at photos of this young boy, smiling from ear to ear, hairless. Almost every photo Kelly was without hair from the extensive treatments he had learned to live with...with that same ear to ear smile. I learned Kelly was not the type to live a "poor me" life or wonder why it is all so unfair. I learned a lot from this man I had never met. Talk about joy in the midst of struggle.
My heart shattered and I couldn't help the tears that continued to stream down my face. His mother was being escorted to her front row seat to the most unwanted occasion a mother could ever have to attend. This is not an occasion you want to be the one in that front row seat.
She passed us, somewhat hunched over sobbing this low groan that you knew came from the tips of her toes. Calling out "Oh, Kelly!" as she passed our bowed heads. I could hardly contain my pain for her. A mothers ultimate worst nightmare. The family made it to their seats and shortly after the service was underway.
The people who came up to speak were real. Honest. Seemed like Kelly had a way of making people feel they were ok to come just as they were. Real. Honest. And that he knew how to love deeply, wholly. They all spoke and I was gripped. My heart felt these peoples hurt.
A young man approached the pulpit to speak about his beloved friend. His first words wrenched my gut. "It was the first day of 2nd grade in Mrs So and So's class and I walked around the room looking for the desk that had my name across it. I eagerly looked to see who would be sitting next to me for the rest of the school year. I glanced and the seat right beside me was this kid, Kelly McKay." Immediately I pictured my son in his first grade class at school. Wondering what his life would shape up to be. Wondering if God would ever require me to live this agony I was experiencing Mrs. McKay experience today. Or maybe my little boy would grow up to love and care for his sick best friend until death stole them apart. All of the possibilities and what ifs filled my brain and I was swirling.My sweet babies. Today, I watched a beautiful woman in the lowest, saddest moment of her life. Wondering if it just felt surreal to her. Having her sons body reduced to a box. Having it placed in her arms as she walks down the aisle at the end of the service sobbing a sob only a mother can feel. A box. That is all she is left with. Her first born.
I will never forget Kelly McKay. I will never forget today. Today I learned what a true hero looks like. A silly, beautifully bald, honest, loving young man. I am forever moved and changed by this families love and commitment.
Thank you McKay family for allowing me to share in the celebration of Kelly's life. He continues to touch peoples hearts even after death.
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