But at what cost? What does a 3-month-old baby boy take away from the struggle between life and death? Will what happened to him become his frame of reference? Will it determine how he behaves? How he reacts to good and bad news? Or can we just dismiss all of this, because he was simply far too young? As a parent, you naturally hope for the latter, but you fear the former. No matter how young you are, no one emerges mentally unscathed from such a struggle.
Last year, Milan gave us a glimpse into his thoughts for the first time. My father, Milan’s grandfather, passed away on October 13 from cancer after a long illness. Milan was 100% convinced that his grandfather would live on. After all, he had beaten cancer—so surely his grandpa would too, right? He could talk about this easily and lightly. Everything would be okay. As his grandpa’s condition continued to worsen, Milan grew increasingly quiet. I’m sure it was very hard for him to see firsthand that his belief was no longer true at that moment—that his strong and positive grandpa had lost his battle with cancer.
After his death, Milan doesn’t want to talk about it. Not a word. Even mentioning his name is too much. Strangely enough, I sometimes feel that he blames Grandpa for not having won. To him, it makes sense: I survived, so I expect the same from my grandpa. He might even feel abandoned—not just because of what happened, but also because of what he believes in. Cancer is now suddenly associated with death, not with life.
Maybe I’m reading too much into my son’s young mind. But I see someone who’s grappling with questions he’s still far too young to handle—questions that just come at him. Finding the answers to them takes time and experience. It’s all part of who he is and how he’s growing. I can’t—and don’t want to—protect him from whatever comes his way. All I can do is serve as his moral compass, as the guardian of everything that makes his life so wonderful. If that has even the slightest influence on his answer, I’m a happy father.
Jan Burger
