Death to Comparisons

Since working in pediatric oncology and bone marrow transplant, I have attended more funerals than I would like to count. These are funerals of children who were someone’s beloved daughter, son, sister, brother, niece, nephew, grandchild, student, classmate, and friend. These children faced tougher battles in their young lives than many adults will ever comprehend. These families were robbed of future years with their beloved child, and they are left clinging to the memories of a young life gone too soon. 

 

When I attend a child’s funeral, I am always struck by the vast number of people who were impacted by their life. It is not proportional to their years, as some of the youngest children have impacted lives around the world through the testimony of their faith and strength through their journey.  I see people of all ages, genders, ethnicities, cultures, and backgrounds mourning the loss of the child, some who did not even know them personally. I see grieving family members being embraced by friends and people they barely know, all who were impacted by their child’s life. I see collective grief over a tragic loss.

 

I’ll tell you what I do not see.

 

I do not see anyone competing to see who was the closest to the child who passed away. There is no striving for attention over who is the most heartbroken over the loss. There is no comparison between the child who is being remembered at this particular service and another. No one stands up during a eulogy and declares, “Well MY child matters too!” or “Cancer isn’t the only disease that kills children! What about the others?!” That would be outrageous, am I right? Instead, everyone is collectively surrounding a hurting family who has suffered unimaginable pain and loss. 

 

And yet.

 

When I look around our society, I see competition for whose cause is the “most important.” COVID. Human trafficking. Black lives matter. Police lives matter. Unborn lives matter. It is utterly exhausting to be inundated with claims that, “____ cause should scare you/concern you/affect you more than ____ cause.” 

 

When I stand with my friends of color and declare that Black lives matter, I am not saying that other lives do not matter – just as mourning the life of a child lost to cancer does not mean that I don’t grieve for other causes of mortality in the world. I am simply recognizing the deep pain and injustice that the people closest to the injustice (or tragedy) are experiencing.  To use the rebuttal that “All lives matter” would be like standing up in one of my patient’s funerals and shouting, “My child matters too! All children matter!” It is tone deaf, irrelevant, and insensitive to those who are deeply hurting. 

 

I can respect police and also believe that there are other professionals who are better equipped to handle issues such as mental health. I personally know wonderful people in law enforcement and am truly thankful for them. I support them!  But I can also see that the system of law enforcement lacks accountability and needs to undergo major reform. Can I please have an “I support police” and a “Defund the police” sign in my yard at the same time, side by side?! That would rattle some cages, wouldn’t it…? But the truth is, it can be both AND. We don’t have to give into the narrative that everything has to be a competition of issues. 

 

When I say that I am pro-life, I am not only talking about life in the womb. I am also talking about the LIFE of immigrants, refugees, and other marginalized people groups long after they have been born. But when I talk about respecting lives of refugees, why do I so often hear comments about abortion – which has nothing to do with the topic at hand? I can be pro-life and pro LIFE… the two are not mutually exclusive.

 

COVID is real. Human trafficking is real. (And politics are real, too.) I can be concerned with both – one which is a new problem, and one which is a problem that’s been around for a very long time. One of these should not detract from the other. One of these should not compete with the other. I will never forget my little friend Nardi, a sweet boy in an Albanian orphanage I spent time at during a summer abroad in 2005 – he was missing a kidney due to unimaginable horrors of human trafficking. I will also never forget the 29 year old previously healthy Oklahoman who just lost her life to COVID… while 6 months pregnant, and leaving behind her other two young children. I can (and should) grieve both of these issues, not compare them to see which is “worse.”

 

So, back to that funeral… can you grieve with the family of the child who died, whether you knew them personally or not? Can you sit in sadness and confront the harsh reality of their pain and suffering even if it’s uncomfortable for you? Can you stand for their cause, for their pain, for their heartache without comparing them to your own family, your neighbor, or someone else who died? Can you be both joyful that the child is no longer in pain and also devastated for the loss here on earth? 

 

If your answer to these is “yes,” can you also listen to the cries of people of color, refugees, and marginalized people groups without speaking over them to compare to your own “injustices”? Can you respect police while also asking for accountability? Can you fight for both life in utero and life of refugee children? Can you respect healthcare experts while also having questions about a disease? Can you declare that black lives matter without adding a “but/and” statement? 

 

I believe that you can. We can.

 

-L