First, we thank you all for coming. Your prayers, kind
words, meals, and friendship have meant so much to us. Your coming today
honors Simon, Ethan, his parents, and all of Simon’s family.
We want to tell you about Simon so that all can know how
truly special he was. Every time he met someone he would say in pretty much
the same order: My name is Simon. I’m 4. I have a brother Ethan. He’s 6. I
have 2 babies at home. Their names are Charlie and Sophia. I have a Mater
who can go backwards, and I ride a motorcycle. When appropriate, he might
follow up with an enthusiastic – “Let’s Race!” These are the bare facts that
Simon thought important.
Simon loved to help out with the family. He was so eager
to help feed Sophia and Charlie that we could use it as leverage with his
vegetables (“yes, you can feed Sophia but only after you have one bite of
broccoli”). Simon eagerly helped assemble their cribs, and when workmen came
to the house, Simon would bring out his Bob the Builder toolsets and show
them his tools.
Simon unified the neighborhood. He frequently asked to go
the park and wanted all of his friends there: Corey and Christian, Blaine
and Jordin, Cameron, and others. Filling the playground was his joy. He had
an innate sense of harmony on these trips. He would make sure that Ethan
went first – because Ethan was older, followed by himself, and then his
parents pushing the twins. If we accidentally violated this natural order,
he would quickly correct us.
Simon had many talents, but really loved to golf. At first
he called the range, the ‘picking up field’ as he loved watching the machine
pick up the balls. Soon he enjoyed hitting the ball off the tee. He was
truly at home on the range and on the putting green. His swing was perfect,
even with brain cancer messing with his eyes and balance. Two weeks ago, we
played for the last time, and after Daddy mis-hit a ball that went only a
few feet, Simon stepped to the tee, hit the ball farther than Daddy had
managed – and was overjoyed.
During his own battle with cancer, Simon helped many other
people – for example, by bringing joy to the radiation therapy waiting
rooms. The highlight of those days was his racing the nurses and staff into
the radiation room. The staff and patients would clap and watch the race,
and other children would giggle as he passed. Last summer we met another
family at the hospital, and their daughter Lindsay with the same deadly
cancer was crying because she dreaded having an IV inserted. Simon told
everyone that she needed a hug; then he walked over to this frightened seven
year-old and hugged her.
Importantly, although Simon met many people because of his
cancer, he was not defined by his cancer. A new neighbor told us this week
that she knew Simon from the playground and had also heard that a local
child had brain cancer. But she had no idea that the child was Simon.
Simon was so brave. He fought his brain tumor with great
courage and never complained. He was amazing – while most kids needed
sedation before treatment, he would walk into the radiation room, lie still
on a table, and have a mask drawn over his head. Thirty straight times he
held completely still. Afterwards, with his tiny hands he would push the
gigantic radiation machine around back to its original position.
He loved taking pictures. For his birthday, he got a
camera and took tons of pictures. He would even take pictures of pictures.
Last week, he wandered over to our neighbors’ house and, when asked what he
was doing – he said “I’m taking pictures!” Then for the next hour he and our
neighbor took pictures together. We will all learn now what life will be
like after Simon. Certainly it will not be the same; but just as certainly,
we are better for having had Simon in it.
Of the many important people in Simon’s life, by far the
most important was his older brother. Ethan was 19 months old at Simon’s
birth, and he does not remember life before Simon. We weep for our loss, but
weep more for Ethan’s. His are the final family words:
Dear Simon,
I wish you were alive. I miss you. You were a good
brother. I liked playing pirates with you and going to the park. I will take
good care of your monkey, Piggy Piggy, and Minerva for you. Thank you for
being a good brother. I’ll see you in Heaven.
I love you,
Ethan