Grace for Grant: A Journey with an Old Soul

Why I Wrote Grace for Grant: A Journey with An Old Soul After several years of navigating through a fog amidst friends, family, acquaintances and strangers, I came to a point where I knew I needed to wake up and be a part of society again. A person can’t roam the earth in a cloud pretending they’re relevant when they can hardly put one foot in front of the other. Dinosaurs had better survival instincts in their last days than I could muster. They say year three can be the toughest, and by Christmas I was so near the bottom I could touch the rock with my toe. After having tried different therapy options, I finally moved to Neurolinguistic Programming, changing my brain patterns to move toward positive thoughts rather than negative ones. As year four pressed in on me, along with a pandemic, I could no longer ignore the last request of Grant Miller Galvin to write his story. Whether he could be a part of the process or not. I sought out groups of writers, grief platforms and publishing opportunities and made the decision to sit, write, edit, cry and tell the tale only he could have authored through his short, well-lived life. After eighty-five days, a few bottles of wine and boxes of tissues, Grace for Grant: A Journey with an Old Soul, wrote itself while my fingers tried to keep up on the keyboard. What he wanted was a journal of our days interjected with his observations from a locked-in vantage point. He always expected to wake and join me in the process. He never did. So, I sat down alone with the text messages, Facebook posts, doctor reports and personal revelations to build not only a story, but a legacy for the child who wanted more than anything to live. People ask every day if the writing experience was cathartic. I’m sure it was; I’m still waiting for the full effect. What I hope to see is that this chronicle will help others live through loss and deal with terminal illness. We all fear the unimaginable and wonder how life goes on when it happens. It’s not easy but it’s possible. And necessary. I’d like to see more research on brain stem tumors and through the book sales and blog offerings, be able to donate proceeds to organizations that can make that happen. Grant is with me every day and I know he is thrilled with this completed endeavor. Because when he’s not happy, I surely know it. And so do others. He is beaming from above, watching out for those he left behind and enjoying his other-worldly existence. When you see an angel in the clouds, a rainbow over your shoulder or a skateboard whizzing by, know that he’s by your side. And you are loved and safe.