Entering the hospital was different this time. I haven’t felt the wobbly leg-weak in the knees feeling in a long time.
We went straight to the Peds department and saw the nurses unhooking Marck’s oxygen tubing and rolling away the machinery. All of the other parents kept their heads down. Maybe they knew the pain of losing a child and wanted to give Marck’s family some space. The doctors continued to go on with their day.
This was the first time Amy and I have witnessed a child pass away in the presence of a parent.
It sucks. It really sucks.
In case you didn’t know, our mission started because of this kid. He captivated out hearts and showed us what it was like to fight. We spent countless hours with this family. There were nights where we all stayed up praying for his survival, singing hymns till 3 in the morning. We have snuck across the Dominican Republic boarder with this family. We named their second child. They taught us Haitian customs and French phrases. We taught them about heart defects and respiratory infections.
Marck had a way of bringing people together. Makenson and Monia are our friends and we love them.
Monia used to joke about how Marck was a little guy with a BIG name. His father Mackenson named him. Marck Henry Finley.
Marck.. to carry on his own name.
Henry…a strong name. the name of the King who built the Citadelle.
Finley…the name of a great Evangelist.
Yesterday we were very grateful for our truck. It meant we were able to take Marck home.
Amy and I worked as a team. She’s the comforting one. She stayed with Monia and the entire family. I helped Mackenson with all the funeral arrangements. We went to town to buy all the supplies for the coffin. Makenson told me that most people have to buy their child a pretty outfit, but he didn’t have to because Marck already had nice clothes.
And he did. He looked handsome in his suit, but more importantly he looked peaceful in his suit.
Marck’s house was crowded with people. This was just another indication that this kid was loved. We laid him in his coffin and headed to the cemetery. This cemetery is one we have been to many times. The same person digs every grave. He's at every single funeral. The pastor shared a great prayer, and he and Marck’s grandfather led hymns for the next twenty minutes. It took about twenty minutes to close up his grave with blocks.
As we were leaving Mackenson asked us to love Marck’s little brother with the same love we have for Marck. I think we can do that. No problem. Mickenson's baby dedication will take place next week and we can't wait to attend.
One of the last things Mackenson told us with our good-bye hugs is that we were all of the same team, like a futbol team. We bonded because we were all fighting for the same thing. We all wanted a win. We all wanted Marck to make it.
While he didn’t make it in our sense of the phrase, he sure does have it made.
(while driving home)
Amy: I bet Marck is breathing easy up in Heaven
Me: Yeah, he’s probably sucking in as much as air as he can!
Amy: Wait do you think we really even need oxygen in Heaven?
Amy: Do you think he’s still a baby?
Amy: Do you think there has to be like nannies watching the babies?
Yesterday, we lost Marck. It was a hard loss. We will miss him like crazy. We have been blessed so many times by that kid. And we will continue to be blessed. His story will always be told.
February 2012 - Mickenson (3 days old) and Marck (14 months old)