* Brace yourselves, folks. This post could be a lengthy one. *
For me... July 25th will never be just another check on the calendar. July 25th marks a wound on my heart, the internal ache that threatens to draw a tear...the lesson learned and the joy that comes after the pain.
This is Terry.
Terry is my uncle, the youngest of my grandmother's (Mom's side) 7 children. At birth, it was obvious that Terry was different from the rest of his siblings. With several health complications and various anomalies, Terry spent the majority of his first years of life in a hospital. My mom, aunts, and uncles could give better specifics, but at some point the doctors diagnosed Terry with a rare disorder called Pallister-Hall Syndrome - caused by mutations to the GL13 gene. You can look up some more in depth descriptions, but for the sake of quick understanding, I have commonly compared PHS to Down Syndrome. Don't misunderstand - it is NOT Down Syndrome and they are two separate disorders, but it is a really easy reference point for those who are not familiar with PHS, particularly with respect to cognitive disabilities. In the title of this post, some of you may be confused by the word "amazy". In Terry-isms (as my family likes to call them), that means amazing. If you haven't been able to tell already, Terry is a big part of my career inspiration - a degree in special education and a career choice that revolves around helping people with disabilities.
When Terry was born, the doctors had never seen anyone like Terry. They told Gran that he would never walk, talk, or live to be 5. On July 25, 2010 at approximately 4:20 in the afternoon, Terry left his earthly body and entered the gates of Heaven, at the age of 42. He walked and talked every bit of those 42 years - a living, breathing, miracle testament to God's unbelievable grace.
There are so many things that I can talk about with respect to Terry. My entire family has joked that we could write a book, and I'm certain that it would be a best-seller. However, one of the things that I have come to realize since his passing, is that I have so much more than funny stories and pictures. I have lessons. I have blessings. I have morals to the story. I have JOY. And what else can you do with joy, but share it? So what things did I learn? Let me tell you...
When Terry became sick, it was one of those moments where you stop and say, "It won't happen to us." How juvenile, right? That's the kind of thing that we always criticize others for thinking - It can happen to ANYONE. But while it's part ignorance, it's also part optimism. To clear this up, Terry did not die from PHS. He had cancer - a Ewing's Sarcoma. In April of 2010, the doctors at Memorial Hermann removed a 10 cm mass from his adrenal gland, a kidney, his gallbladder, and a large portion of his liver. With one of the characteristics of PHS being benign abnormal growths, we were holding onto the prayer that this mass was only that - an abnormal growth. A couple of months after a remarkable recovery from a very invasive surgery, we received the disappointing news that it was in fact cancer and an aggressive one. For Gran's birthday we had a family gathering at my aunt's to celebrate and, as God would have it, that would be the last family gathering we had with Terry physically present. He passed about 3 weeks later, while on hospice care - in his own bedroom, at his and Gran's house (which is attached to my house), with our entire family there.
On the first day that things started to become real, I left work in the middle of the day and came home to be with him. I will NEVER forget that day. When I got home, I went in the house to change and then hurried over to his bedroom door, which opens up to our back porch. A few family members were in the room and Terry was sitting on the bed - in pain. His eyes could barely open and he hardly finished a sentence because he was so groggy. I sat down on the bed next to him, placed my hands on his, and watched as he lifted his head and his eyes opened to a sliver. He couldn't see me, so I softly said, "Hey buddy". He didn't have to ask. He knew it was me from the sound of my voice. "Missy!" And he pulled me into an embrace, resting his head on my shoulder. My Aunt Becky took this picture while we were sitting there together:
In what some would think were his weakest hours, Terry was still teaching us. One day he pushed my aunt and I out of his room with the command that he needed "some time with God." If you knew Terry, you knew that when he said get out...you better GET. OUT. Nervous as we were about leaving him alone, we stayed just outside the door and listened. His prayer went something like this -
God, it's me, Terry Majors. I hope I didn't wake you up or bother you, I know you're really busy. I'm in my room. My back hurts really bad. Really bad. Please, please help me. I'm begging you to help me. My back hurts. And if you won't help me.................... I love you God.
How convicting is that? Talk about faith in its purest form - knowing that you can go to Him in prayer, ask Him for an answer, and know that the answer could be "no". And if it is, "no", there is a reason and you are going to trust HIS PLAN. That, my friends, is faith like a child.
In those last few days while hospice care was at our house, I can remember feeling like I was in some kind of dream. I kept thinking - This can't be real. He can't be dying. I don't know how to deal with death. I don't know how to cope. Don't leave me. And I kept praying - God, save him. Make him better. Make him live. Don't take him. His answer? "No." Then, my prayers changed. God, take him. SAVE HIM. Bring him home to you. Take away his pain and bring him home to YOU. And that Sunday, Terry went home.
No more pain. No more tears. No more anomalies. No more health issues. No more cancer.
Only perfection.
God's plan...is perfection.
For the entire duration of Terry's life, he lived with Gran. They were partners in life...and sometimes (okay, most times) crime. ;) We had really worried about how Terry would handle it if Gran passed and he didn't have her anymore. We also worried about how Gran would cope without Terry. There was never one without the other. Again, God's plan - it's perfect. Terry passed in July of 2010 and a little over a year later, in November of 2011, Gran met him in Heaven. It warms my heart to think about the two of them up there together - bossing each other around and taking care of each other like an old married couple. My goodness, I cannot wait until the day that I see them again. GOD IS GOOD. ALL THE TIME.
Even in pain, there is joy. Without Terry, I couldn't tell you that from experience. You can be sad and hurt because someone is gone, but you can rejoice because God blessed you with such a beautiful person, such a beautiful moment in time. You can rejoice because He is fulfilling His promise. You can rejoice because He IS.
Terry knew that.
There are so many things that I can talk about with respect to Terry. My entire family has joked that we could write a book, and I'm certain that it would be a best-seller. However, one of the things that I have come to realize since his passing, is that I have so much more than funny stories and pictures. I have lessons. I have blessings. I have morals to the story. I have JOY. And what else can you do with joy, but share it? So what things did I learn? Let me tell you...
When Terry became sick, it was one of those moments where you stop and say, "It won't happen to us." How juvenile, right? That's the kind of thing that we always criticize others for thinking - It can happen to ANYONE. But while it's part ignorance, it's also part optimism. To clear this up, Terry did not die from PHS. He had cancer - a Ewing's Sarcoma. In April of 2010, the doctors at Memorial Hermann removed a 10 cm mass from his adrenal gland, a kidney, his gallbladder, and a large portion of his liver. With one of the characteristics of PHS being benign abnormal growths, we were holding onto the prayer that this mass was only that - an abnormal growth. A couple of months after a remarkable recovery from a very invasive surgery, we received the disappointing news that it was in fact cancer and an aggressive one. For Gran's birthday we had a family gathering at my aunt's to celebrate and, as God would have it, that would be the last family gathering we had with Terry physically present. He passed about 3 weeks later, while on hospice care - in his own bedroom, at his and Gran's house (which is attached to my house), with our entire family there.
On the first day that things started to become real, I left work in the middle of the day and came home to be with him. I will NEVER forget that day. When I got home, I went in the house to change and then hurried over to his bedroom door, which opens up to our back porch. A few family members were in the room and Terry was sitting on the bed - in pain. His eyes could barely open and he hardly finished a sentence because he was so groggy. I sat down on the bed next to him, placed my hands on his, and watched as he lifted his head and his eyes opened to a sliver. He couldn't see me, so I softly said, "Hey buddy". He didn't have to ask. He knew it was me from the sound of my voice. "Missy!" And he pulled me into an embrace, resting his head on my shoulder. My Aunt Becky took this picture while we were sitting there together:
In what some would think were his weakest hours, Terry was still teaching us. One day he pushed my aunt and I out of his room with the command that he needed "some time with God." If you knew Terry, you knew that when he said get out...you better GET. OUT. Nervous as we were about leaving him alone, we stayed just outside the door and listened. His prayer went something like this -
God, it's me, Terry Majors. I hope I didn't wake you up or bother you, I know you're really busy. I'm in my room. My back hurts really bad. Really bad. Please, please help me. I'm begging you to help me. My back hurts. And if you won't help me.................... I love you God.
How convicting is that? Talk about faith in its purest form - knowing that you can go to Him in prayer, ask Him for an answer, and know that the answer could be "no". And if it is, "no", there is a reason and you are going to trust HIS PLAN. That, my friends, is faith like a child.
In those last few days while hospice care was at our house, I can remember feeling like I was in some kind of dream. I kept thinking - This can't be real. He can't be dying. I don't know how to deal with death. I don't know how to cope. Don't leave me. And I kept praying - God, save him. Make him better. Make him live. Don't take him. His answer? "No." Then, my prayers changed. God, take him. SAVE HIM. Bring him home to you. Take away his pain and bring him home to YOU. And that Sunday, Terry went home.
No more pain. No more tears. No more anomalies. No more health issues. No more cancer.
Only perfection.
God's plan...is perfection.
For the entire duration of Terry's life, he lived with Gran. They were partners in life...and sometimes (okay, most times) crime. ;) We had really worried about how Terry would handle it if Gran passed and he didn't have her anymore. We also worried about how Gran would cope without Terry. There was never one without the other. Again, God's plan - it's perfect. Terry passed in July of 2010 and a little over a year later, in November of 2011, Gran met him in Heaven. It warms my heart to think about the two of them up there together - bossing each other around and taking care of each other like an old married couple. My goodness, I cannot wait until the day that I see them again. GOD IS GOOD. ALL THE TIME.
Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him.
James 1:12
Even in pain, there is joy. Without Terry, I couldn't tell you that from experience. You can be sad and hurt because someone is gone, but you can rejoice because God blessed you with such a beautiful person, such a beautiful moment in time. You can rejoice because He is fulfilling His promise. You can rejoice because He IS.
Terry knew that.
July 25th marks a day that I can rejoice.
Video that was played at Terry's funeral
Angels Among Us by Alabama
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