A Tribute to Omar

I decided to become an Occupational Therapist after my mother passed away and I was trying to make sense of why I was here in this world and what my purpose was. It was at that time that I decided to make my existence matter in some small way. I wasn't blessed with material riches and I probably never will be. Frankly, while I wish I was more comfortable than I am it really doesn't matter to me as much as feeling right with myself and who I am as a human being matters. My job rewards me on a daily basis. Every night I feel like it was worth my getting out of bed and going out into the world. Helping others make sense of their situations really helps me make sense of mine so it's really a win/win thing for me. If I die poor materialistically but rich in spirit I will consider my life a great success.

I click with the adult population and that is who I treat but every once in a while I get a referral for a pediatric case and this is how I met little Omar. I always cringe when this happens. I am not a pediatric therapist and I'm really not a kid person. Did I say I am not a kid person? Yeah, I'm really not. I am an only child and my cousins were all much older than me. I never babysat, I've never really been around children a lot. I don't dislike them at all but I have no skills to call on when I'm around them.

The minute I met Omar, I was completely captivated. Enchanted. In love. I wish I took a picture of him so I could show you how adorable this boy was. He had the hugest sparkly brown eyes I've ever seen and his smile was infectious. Just looking at him made me happy. He and his family were Spanish speaking so I always had my translator Miguel with me when I visited Omar. Miguel was in love with him too. He used to just give him dollar bills to play with and keep. When Miguel would ask "are we going to see Omar today?" I knew it was serious love.

Omar's family was poor. They lived in a basement that looked as if it was meant for storage. The floors were concrete, it was chilly and damp but Omar's mother seemed to make it a home. This family was so poor, he didn't really have any toys. I had to buy some for him to play with so we could do our activities together. Even with all these hardships, there was more love and warmth in that home than any 5th avenue penthouse I've been in and I've been in quite a few. It was obvious that he was adored by his family. His brother and sister, Mother and Father. They all seemed to light up around him. Even the physical therapist who was on this case with me said to me "I have a son, and I think my son is cute but Omar, Omar is REALLY cute!"

Omar was the first child that ever made me think about having one of my own. I used to think about him and his struggle with his illness and his spunky little spirit when I complained about stupid things. No matter what he was going through he tried so hard to be "normal'. He would run to the door and open it for me when I rang the bell. He would play with me when I could tell he was tired. The entire time he laughed and smiled and lit up the room. He was a magical child. He was in and out of the hospital quite a bit but before Christmas he was improving and looked wonderful.

Today, Miguel and I were driving on his block and Miguel turned to me and said "I wonder how Omar is doing?" Just as he said this we came to the building and there was a large poster board written in Spanish. His picture was above the writing. I felt a surge of nausea when I realized what this was. Omar died last Friday night at the age of 4 of complications from a brain tumor. To say that I am heartbroken is an understatement. Miguel, tough Dominican man that he is, turned to me and we hugged and both broke out into uncontrollable sobs. I have never been affected by the death of one of my patients like this before and a lot of them have died on me. I've been to a lot of funerals and seen people come and go but this, this was something I have never experienced before. The rest of my day today was a haze. I don't even remember how many times I've cried and I'm still crying right now.

I thought a lot about all of this and speculated in circles to try and make sense of it. There is no making sense of something like this. One of my patients who is in her 80's told me she wanted to die and has had enough and I kept thinking to myself, how unfair is it that this beautiful child was taken and someone who doesn't want to be here and has lived a long life is still hanging on. No ones life has more value than another, we simply can't pick and choose who stays and who goes nor should we be able to but it's such a hard thing to take and I'm having trouble processing this one. All the platitudes like "he's in a better place" etc etc are making me very angry right now. If I feel this devastated I cannot even begin to imagine how his mother must feel. I wanted to go to his funeral tonight but I knew better than to do it. Just thinking of him makes me lose control, I cannot imagine seeing his tiny lifeless body and how that would impact me. The thing is, I am sure that his family will take this like most faith based Latin families I have dealt with along with way. They will go through a terrible time but they will call on their faith and trust that their Omar was needed by God and he was too good for this world. They will always have a seven day candle burning with his picture nearby, his favorite things around and his favorite drink on the table. That will be a constant till that day his mother leaves this world herself. She'll probably never pop a pill to cope, she will more than likely pray and devote herself to her remaining children and her husband. Sure, I'm speculating but in her I saw a selflessness and a dedication to her family and her God and that is what fulfilled her. She had her purpose and was happy with it.

Seeing how these people live and their love for one another despite their struggle to survive and make a place for themselves made me remember my own rocky childhood. My mother went through a lot but she managed to create stability and teach me so much. I don't think a lot of parents do these things anymore like they should. Families rarely eat together anymore, so many people never learn to respect others and they are so self centered it amazes me. I was forced by my Mother to do volunteer work. I was pissed at the time but I grew to love it and it really shaped who I am today. Even though I'm sitting here typing on one I think as wonderful and essential as computers are they have created the death of many real life social interactions and activities. People seem to be turning inward more and more and relying on pills and e-relationships and it's really sad and creepy to me.

I'm trying to see a lesson in this and it's really hard but right now I'm realizing that this little angels life had such great value in the short time he was here. He taught everyone who came into contact with him very valuable lessons. He showed me that wisdom and courage can come in very small packages and that life should be appreciated for the gift that it is because it is a waste to give into unhappiness and negativity. Why do that when life can end at any moment? It's too precious to take for granted. Knowing Omar has changed me for the better. I thought of him before today quite a bit and now I will continue to think of him and the graceful way he lived his young life and the priceless lessons he taught me and everyone who came into contact with him.

Rest in peace Omar xoxoxoxox


That's all for now