John Wandishin died June 28, just one day short of his 16th birthday. John had battled leukemia for over five years, and only bone marrow transplants from his sister, Christine, gave him those years of life.
How long should a person’s life be?
I’m reminded of a priest in the missions who watched a baby die within an hour of being born.
“What do you think the purpose of his life was?” he asked a doctor.
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but he evoked love from me. Maybe that’s enough.”
John Wandishin evoked many things from people, not the least of which was admiration for his courage and love of life. He wanted to live. He wanted to do all the things he could. He visited the Science Center just days before he died.
There’s no way to romanticize a battle with cancer in any form. There’s no way to glamorize an early death. Living with a disease is miserable. Dying is hard work.
His parents, Kathleen and Jim, and his family made his life as enjoyable as possible, and made his death as peaceful as possible.
I said to his grandmother, Dorothy Suehle, that I simply could not imagine a better family for John to be a part of. They give a modern-day meaning to the term Holy Family.
Beyond his immediate family, Johnny touched a much larger world. He consistently inspired friends and classmates. He said he just wanted to be normal, and so many people helped him to feel a part of normal life.
John was a student at Archbishop Curley High School.
A group of young men used to take him from class to class in his wheelchair. The same group carried him in his coffin to church, and to his grave.
How much we hear about what young people do wrong.
How little do we hear about such goodness and generosity that are the real qualities of young people.
There seems to be no limit to all the sermons and books and cards and messages that inspire us. Yet, I feel certain that nothing will have as great an impact on so many lives as did the life of John Wandishin.
He taught us not to take the moment for granted. He taught us that life is fragile, and we do have to handle it and each other with care.
He taught us that faith does matter, and that only faith can make real sense of tragedy. He taught us that there is dignity in hard work, and pride in doing things right.
He never asked for fewer assignments than his classmates got. He just wanted to be normal. Ironically, in his desire to be normal, he never realized that he was exceptional.
Shortly before his death, his mother asked him what he wanted to do for his birthday. He replied: “Nothing. I just want to stay in bed and sleep.” He was in his coffin on his 16th birthday. He was asleep. He was at peace.
In his marvelous homily at the funeral at John’s parish of St. Clare in Essex, Father Michael Martin said the family has finally heard the words it lived for all these years: “John is cured.” Johnny is finally free from pain and nausea and misery and death.
Evil is real, but God is stronger than evil.
When his doctor and his nurse came to the house the night he died, they saw a rainbow reaching from the house to the sky. A rainbow is always a sign of hope, a sign that death is over and new life begins.
I would ask you to please pray for John’s parents and siblings, his entire extended family and wonderful friends. Pray that they will experience, at least partially, the joy and peace that John now experiences fully.
In closing, allow me to quote a poem that John wrote, titled “ When I Get Up In The Morning.”
“I want to be free, fly, and be soaring.
No, I never want it to be boring.
I just push myself to be better and strong, So I can have fun and live my life long.
I always try to keep myself happy, Even if I write poems that are sappy.
I strive to be the best of my ability Even through the tough times life gives to me.
I think it’s a problem no one can get rid of.
Help me, Jesus, I’m just a kid.”
Contributions in his memory can be sent to Archbishop Curley High School, or St. Clare parish, Essex.
Copyright © 2005 Catholic Review Media
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