celebrations and grief
I'm too drained and tired to proofread. Apologies for any typos.
My youngest nephew, Jacob, is dying. He has terminal cancer.
Today is his tenth birthday.
He loves DC buses. Especially the S6 and the S9 that run up and down 16th Street, near where he lives.
When the Make-a-Wish people approached my sister-in-law at the hospital, she told them: "Get us a bus." Yesterday we found out the bus ride was happening today.
Here is a story on WTOP with photos from this morning. Metro didn't just get us a bus. They decorated the fuck out of it, inside and out. The digital destination display was something like "for Jacob" or "Jacob's bus." They had a cake and cookies made, and a jersey with his name and the number "10" on it. Metro transit cops on motorcycles led us, motorcade style, as the bus drove through the city. We may have even run some red lights.
Because this was the first time Metro had ever been asked for a bus for a dying kid, there was a press conference with lots of local media: WTOP, WJLA, Fox5DC, DC News Now, some others. Fox affiliates around the country have since picked up the story. I saw one article that says my nephew had a bone marrow transplant. That is not true. I don't know where they got that.
Anyway.
Dying kid gets dying wish for special Metro bus ride. A PR win for Metro, who needed it. A fun distraction for Metro employees, who probably went apeshit in the Michael's a block away from the bus depot, and clearly worked really hard on the inside of that bus. An hour of seeing my nephew pretty psyched, despite how weak and exhausted he is.
But that was just the morning.
Some teachers from my nephew's school, a bilingual public charter school, said they were going to drive by the house around 5pm today.
I turned onto my brother's usually quiet residential street at about 5:05 and it almost looked like a tailgate party. Car after car after car decorated with painted birthday wishes and drawings of buses. A mariachi band on the front lawn serenading my sombrero-wearing nephew. A growing collection of helium balloons tied to the railing, and 30-40 people, mostly teachers and staff, singing while wiping tears away from their faces. They call Jacob "Guapo," and had brought handmade bus-themed birthday cards signed by all the kids in his class. No reporters or press conferences. Just people who give a damn.
I'll post some photos in my Instagram stories tomorrow, maybe. It's too much to process right now.
Jacob had a good day. Friends and family and strangers showed up and out for him. I am happy he enjoyed the bus; heartbroken for his parents and siblings; and ready to take a swing at anyone who talks to me about God or Jesus right now.
No links this week. I gotta go to bed.