My grandson, Neill, was diagnosed at age three with leukemia. He was diagnosed after his Mom noticed petechiae while dressing him in his Halloween costume. His pediatrician immediately sent him to Mott Hospital (University of Michigan-Ann Arbor). He was under aggressive treatment until he went to the Lord in 2010. He bravely fought and it broke my heart to see him at Mott more than he was home.

His parents ‘roomed in’ and other family members were forbidden to see him because of infection control protocols. This was just prior to the advent of social media and the ability to 'face time.' Neill's 1st grade public school teacher, however, was able to set up remote learning so that he could continue to learn and socialize with his fellow classmates. Ever the optimist, he tried to keep up with his studies, even while weary because of the chemotherapy. After several relapses, a stem cell transplant was performed without success.

Mott's staff loved Neill and in 2006, he literally became the poster child for the Galens Medical Society-U of M Medical School 'Tag Days' Christmas fundraising drive. Rarely, was I able to visit him at Mott and then only when standing outside the infection control chamber. My joy came in staying with Neill's little brother, Ian. I was there for Ian's first steps, first words, etc.

Neill fought courageously for seven years as the doctors at Mott tried every conceivable and available treatment to save his young life. But the Lord wanted him more than I did. He went to heaven at age ten. How could the Lord permit the death of a youth with such promise? One who knew of his impending death, and said that he had on his ‘happy face.’ My heart ached. His memorial service was scheduled soon after on a Saturday.

My call to serve in the Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion ministry has been long standing. I've been commissioned in several Michigan dioceses the last 16 years or so: Saginaw, Gaylord, Lansing, and Detroit. My ministry includes Mass, to the homebound, and to those in residential care facilities, (CCRC, nursing home, memory care, rehabilitation center, assisted living center, etc.) I usually try to bring the current parish bulletin with me and it’s rarely refused when I offer it. It's a great evangelization tool. People hunger for the Eucharist and hunger for adult company. My visits can be short or lengthy, depending upon the Spirit's direction.

I was scheduled as an EMHC the day following Neill's service. Tears poured from my eyes during Mass, and I could barely choke out the words of the responses. I wondered how I would be able to serve. Parishioners in the pew beside me offered to substitute, because they knew of Neill’s service the day before and witnessed my very evident struggles. I felt the Lord ask me to step forward.

I had been taught to be very intentional, very deliberate, when I offered the Body of Christ to communicants; to look directly onto the eyes of each individual; to touch their hands as I placed the Lord’s Body there; and to speak/proclaim the words, ‘The Body of Christ’ unashamedly as I did so. The line was long at my distribution station. My face was wet from my tears.

My voice cracked as I offered the Lord to the first few communicants. But it grew stronger as I gazed into the eyes of each communicant and saw their faith. I had a window into their soul, and this reaffirmed God’s presence with me. He had not abandoned me in my grief and sorrow over Neill’s death.

He brought me ever so close to Himself as He allowed me the privileged moment of the ability to repeatedly touch His very body in the Eucharist. He wrapped His arms around me and consoled my broken heart. Jesus Christ is truly present in the Eucharist!