At the top of the “loss” list for this man are the wife and four children left behind.  Three of the children go to our school now; sixth grade, eighth grade, eleventh grade; one graduated last year and is now in college. 

Close behind are the many, many, MANY students at our school who are grieving.   Mr. Griffis had worked there for years not only as a coach of many sports, but also as our 6th grade math teacher.  So pretty much every student at our school has had him for class.  Brayden had him last year … Kellen had him for two classes this year. 

Mr. Griffis and I went to school together, although he was a few years older than me and I’m sure didn’t necessarily remember me from way back then.  His father was my high school counselor.  They live around the corner from me. I was in Bible Study with his wife this spring.   She works at the school, also.  We attend the same church and in fact, are in the same Sunday School class.

So even though our two families were not close, we have felt the loss.  There are many, many, again– MANY families they were close to, who are reeling.  Our town is still in shock, I think.  They are good, good people, and while we celebrate that John is not suffering and is home with his God, those left behind can’t help but grieve.   My personal grief, especially, lies with his children.

All three of my children have elected to attend the funeral today.  Again, not because we were particularly close to John, but as a sign of respect to his wife and kids … their classmates.   We were talking as a family last night about the loss, and the funeral, and how his family must be feeling …..

Then I opened my e-mail and read more bad news.  For those of you who remember, it appears Camp Jack has possibly suffered a relapse of the neuroblastoma that he fought back when Kendrie was fighting leukemia.  This news is being passed along, and his mom Jen has started up a new Camp Jack website, so I hope I’m not breaking any netiquette rules by sharing the news with all of you.  If you knew them from before, you know what a special family they are.  If you didn’t follow my blog back then, I’d love to introduce you to them now, and ask that you visit the site and encourage them today as they wait on test results to find out the exact diagnosis.  What kind of sick and twisted world is it when you HOPE for secondary cancer, and not relapsed neuroblastoma?

I am so sad for both these families.  One whose fight is over but whose grief has just begun, and one whose fight is just beginning — again. 

I don’t think I’ll have to look much farther than my own living room to find my personal thankfulness this week.