Susan is one of my dearest friends. We were introduced by a mutual friend a few years ago and forged an instant bond. Sure, we both have been blessed with multiple diabetics, but I like to think we would have been friends regardless. She has a wicked sense of humor and a smile that would light up any room. Her laughter is contagious, her wisdom runs deep and her heart is big as all get out. It isn’t unreasonable to deduce that from her wonderfulness, she has produced wonderful children…in fact I’m sure that was always a given. Her children are down to earth, friendly and bright.
One of her boys is Tiernan. He looks like a normal teenager. One wouldn’t immediately know that behind his curly locks and wide smile sits a deep talent derived from his life experience, his family, his faith, and fortunate family genes. I have a strong belief that all T1’s are amazing…but Tiernan takes amazing to an entire new level.
Below you will find a poem written by Tiernan. He is 16 and was diagnosed a good 6 years ago…months after his brother. I am proud to host his work and will be excited to see him published one day, where I will exclaim…”I knew his family when…”
There is a great dichotomy that exists here
Funny that two should be able to exist simultaneously
In such a small area
Also kind of funny
That we fully embrace opposites
For what is war?
But Peace’s ugly brother?
And what is hate?
But that which gives meaning to Love?
How can we know light?
Except by that which saves us from Dark?
How can we know Health?
Without having Sickness lurking over our shoulders?
Safety is nothing
And all that we know to be GOOD
Only exists because it is defined by the BAD
And that to which we know no opposite
We take for granted.
Look at the air
The air is thankless
Because we do not know vacuum
Only those who have suffered the tendrils of suffocation
Are thankful for each breath
Just like those that have starved
Are the only ones thankful for each bit of food
And just as the starving hate the glutton
So do the sick silently hate the well
And as we sick slowly waste
We watch the well in their ignorant euphoria
And dream of a day
With the sound of flutes
When we will complete our wasting
And become nothing
~ Tiernan O'Rourke