Little by little, laylagrace.org has become my favorite blog. Don't go there unless you have at least 30 minutes to read from the end to at least the middle of the story of a Christian family, an adorable little girl and a faith in God that (apparently) stood the test of cancer and death.
Little Layla Grace lost her struggle with Neuroblastoma yesterday. Her mother (and sometimes her father) told their story and hers through Twitter, Flickr and the blog. A little girl in a pink knit cap sucking on a Popsicle. The pain of sending your older two children - who aren't all that old at all - to their grandma's so you and your husband could watch your littlest die. The realization that what you had thought would be a few months left would only be a few weeks. And then the realization that death would not come peacefully.
It's all there. On the Internet. Because even when you think all you have is faith, another most human urge is to tell your story. To be understood. To make others understand.
A few days ago, Layla Grace's dad wrote:
We’re not made of steel, we’re not half as strong as many have made us out to be. We simply hope and believe that God has the power to change anything, even this. We cry and pray, and yell and pray, and shake our fist at God, it’s ok though… he can take it.
His post had 1,370 comments. Then, his wife wrote about refusing to allow her daughter to hear here cry as her little body lay dying:
I have to be strong for her. I have to be the one to tell her that it’s going to be ok. That I’m so incredibly proud of her strength and grace. That I will take her short amazing little life and tell the story over and over again. That she WILL continue to do God’s work and she WILL make a difference in the lives of children with cancer.
Amen. (The amen was mine, not hers.)
And then, at 12:43 p.m. yesterday, there was a Tweet:
Layla went to play with the angels early this morning. Rest in peace precious Layla. 11/26/2007 - 3/9/2010
She has 47,297 followers. Girl never made it to kindergarten, but tens of thousands of people care about the messages her mother doles out 140 characters (or less) at a time. That's more than enough space to describe the incomprehensible:
Claire told the dog 2 stop barking b/c she was going 2 wake up Layla. Tears started flowing. (posted about 8:40 a.m. today)