Remembering Nathan Raun
By Teresa Raun
“Will people remember me when I’m gone?”
That is the question my 13-year-old son asked me 26 years ago when he was dying. It saddened me to hear the question. I wondered what would make him ask it, and how he could possibly think that we could forget him.
Recently, while attending an Ignatian retreat, the retreat master asked each of us to identify and remember times in our lives when God seemed to be working in a special way. Upon his request, I was suddenly transported back to 1998, when Nathan was suffering with brain cancer.
Today, reflecting on the 10-month period of time during which Nathan was diagnosed, suffered, and died, I see it as easily the most difficult period of my life, yet, somehow – from a spiritual standpoint – the most fruitful. It was a time when I felt closest to God. A time when I was closest to Jesus.
It began with an MRI that revealed a malignant Grade IV brain tumor. It seemed unthinkable. At age 12, Nathan had been a perfectly healthy boy, just like his three brothers.
Word spread quickly, and within moments, our pastor and a group of friends arrived. They surrounded us to anoint Nathan and to pray. To think that my son was suddenly receiving the Sacrament of the Sick overwhelmed me. I looked around a room full of people. God had sent them all to be with me. His words spoke to me: “Do not be afraid, I am with you.” I felt a warmth come over me, and God’s arms wrapped around me. I felt the anointing strengthen Nate, and strengthen me. It is a moment frozen in time for me.
We quickly made a plan to transport Nathan to the Iowa University Hospital where pediatric surgeons would tell us more about his tumor and make decisions regarding surgery.
On the first day at the hospital, Nathan asked me: “Why did this have to happen to me? I’m just a little kid.” I wrapped my arms around him and cried.
Then, remembering that God has a special plan for each of us, words came to me: “Nathan, I don’t know why this happened to you. Nobody knows why. But why not you? God chose you, and he must feel you can handle this.” I reminded Nate that hundreds of people were praying for him, and promised that I would never leave his side.
From that point forward, Nathan never complained. He did everything he was asked to do. Somehow, even so young, he understood that he needed to be strong, and needed to surrender to God’s will. So did I.
As a mother, and as a critical care nurse who had cared for patients with brain tumors, I asked myself: “What did I miss? How could this happen on my watch?” I felt that I had failed. I was broken. Then, the neurosurgeon resident looked me in the eye and said to me: “You did nothing wrong. You did everything right. It just happened.”
That’s what I needed to hear. I needed to take the focus off myself, give everything to Nate, and love him as much as I could. I thank God for that moment.
Nathan was an ordinary boy who loved life, sports, his family, and his friends. However, we would have easily underestimated his strength, his extraordinary faith in God, and his thirst for Heaven. He believed God would heal him. He believed that, after losing his eyesight, he would miraculously see again. But he also had trust in God’s plan, and was open to whatever God had in mind. Through his suffering he continued to receive God’s grace through the sacraments and prayer, which continued to strengthen him.
As Nathan’s mom, I watched him go from strong and athletic, to weak; from having a head full of hair, to bald; from being able to see, to blind; from being able to walk, to riding in a wheelchair. His losses were many, and they continued to mount. But he never lost his faith, and he never lost his sense of humor. Those two gifts were his constant companions.
During the last 10 months of Nathan’s life, so many things happened to help us understand God’s plan for him, and for us. That understanding brought us a feeling of peace and hope that we did not anticipate. It helped us to see that life’s challenges can make us better, stronger, and closer to God. I am a witness to it.
Before Nathan died, he asked me: “Mom, what are you going to do without me? Who will sing to you? Who will tell you that you’re a good cook? Who will make sure to have Ben and Sam say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’?”
Through my tears, I told him: “Nate, you will always be with me. When I hear music, I will think of you. When I cook, I will think of you. When the boys say ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ I will think of you. And just think, when you are in Heaven, you can be with so many people. You can help so many more people than you will ever be able to help here on earth.”
He liked that, and said: “When I get to Heaven I will be so busy!”
And he is. I have stories to tell.
So, will we forget him? My answer to Nathan was: “No Nathan, we will never forget you. I will share your life with others. You will not be forgotten.”
