Meghan Morris-Lanier
Born: September 1991, Chapel Hill, North Carolina
Died: October 2007, Eidhoven, the Netherlands of brain cancer
So the day has finally come. I’ve been dreading this moment for the past year. Yet nothing prepared me for the grief and sorrow that struck my heart without mercy. This is not how it’s supposed to be. I know life is fleeting. But you should have had a chance to blossom before withering into eternity.
Where should I start? Thirteen years have gone by since the day I met your mother Grayson. She was one of the first people I befriended in the new world. We were both grad students in the computer science department. In that rather conservative, predominately male environment I was lucky to share an office with her. Though our backgrounds were thousands of miles away – she from a small town in North Carolina and I China, we shared a love for languages, art, foreign culture (our later choices of husbands were most evident). We loved science and learning but were far from passionate about the subjects and classes we had to endure. Underneath our engineer façade we had very traditional values. We wanted loving husbands and happy children.
The first day I stepped in our office, I was greeted with your sweet smile. The picture of you, Grayson's golden child, was every inch my imagination of an all American girl – blond hair, blue eyes, little freckles on your cherry cheeks. Grayson was a single mother struggling with mountains of school work and raising a child at the same time. She was determined to bring your up the best she could. She sent you to the prestigious Carolina Friends School. You had so many promises ahead. I remember you showing us what you learned in school, your art projects, the games we played. If only I could turn back the clock.
You were the flower girl at our wedding. I didn’t see you entering the church. But I heard the Oohs and Aahs as you walked down the aisle. That perfect summer day was completed by you, in your beautiful white dress, with the flower basket in your tiny hands.
You were very blessed. You had a most loving mother and an adoring stepfather. You had a beautiful little brother and a little sister who looked up to you. But the time came that we had to say goodbye. We moved west while your family moved to your stepfather, our dear friend Marco’s home country, the Netherlands. Over the years in bits and pieces I heard that you were having a difficult time. I thought it no more than the typical adolescent story. Later it got worse and you moved back to North Carolina to live with your father. Then came the news that you might have had brain cancer. Could the tumor/cancer be the cause of your behavioral problems? We may never know.
I can’t thank your mother enough for her blog, for letting us share your journey (Grayson's blog). I was happy that you got to read the final book of Harry Potter, had a sweet 16th birthday party and even made it to Spain before your final decline. It was heart breaking to read the choices and arrangements you made for yourself, regarding medications and life support. I can not imagine a young girl like you facing these decisions, knowing the end was so near. I admire your courage and was comforted your final days seemed painless. However, events as your passing can shake one’s strongest religious conviction, when justice seems so out of sight.
Therefore, instead of asking God why your life was cut short in such a brutal way, I thank Him for your ever presence, the indelible memories you left us, and that special place you’ll forever hold in our hearts.
