R.I.P. Marcus Jones

The first time I met Marcus Jones was two weeks ago. I had come to my mother's friend's house to babysit her four grandchildren. Marcus was a special needs child that I did not need to take care of, that was the grown folks' responsibility. He had a tube in his throat for breathing, a tube through his stomach for feeding, and couldn't talk at all. He tickled me, and it scared me a little. But I got used to it, along with the kisses that he would give.
Anything that could excite Marcus was a hazard to his life; if his breathing got out of wack for a second then we would all have to act with lightning speed, so he was restricted to the house most of the time. You could usually find Marcus sitting in front of the T.V. watching Disney Channel. He was bored. He would hit the T.V., or turn it on and off, jump on the sofa that he was previously sitting on, or just stare in space, trying so hard to act with his body what he couldn't say with words. Once I just looked at him, and he stared back. We did this for about 2 minutes and I understood, momentarily, how he felt: pained. That might explain why he took his breathing tube out that Saturday.
I don't believe that Marcus would have intentionally hurt himself, but I do know that he could not be supervised 100% of the time, and he had a mind of his own. He would try crazy things because I think he figured, "what else is there to do"? I don't know if he tried to eat something, if his breathing tube wasn't administered well that Saturday, or if his throat wasn't properly suctioned, but he had a seizure during a bath last Thursday. Oxygen was cut off from his brain for too long.

He was pronounced brain dead today at around 12:30 pm after being on the ventilator for a week. He was only seven years old. I would say that Marcus is happy in heaven now: speaking, laughing, singing and such, but I think that he is doing much more. My mind cannot even comprehend what the Lord has in store for Marcus.

Love You, Biggest Boy