My youngest child, Benjamín Nökkvi Björnsson, died on the 1st of May 2015.
Mom, everything will be okay!
My youngest child, Benjamín Nökkvi Björnsson, died on the 1st of May 2015. He had gone through more in the almost 12 years he lived than most people do during their whole lifetime, even if one would go through two of them. Nevertheless, he got through all his difficulties with a smile and loved life and enjoyed it every day, every minute.
I am a strong believer, in a higher power that is, even though I don’t like religion because I think it doesn’t have so much to do with love/kindness, it often complicates things and there seems to be a need to put people into ”boxes” due to which religion they belong. But believe, I surely do.
That is why there is not the slightest doubt in my mind that Benjamín Nökkvi decided by his own that his journey on earth had now come to an end. Like through his whole journey fighting with life-threatening illnesses he yet again surprised his doctors and other professional caretakers by NOT ending his life in the way, which is ”normal” for this disease.
Lying in bed for some weeks more, not being able to take his evening drives with us with blasting music, visiting his favourite store Jói Útherji (of course a soccer store!) and all the other things he loved was just not his thing!
He just thought “enough was enough”, around 4 pm on the Friday the 1st of May. He felt he had not done anything of sense that day, and that this was (besides of the wonderful massage his loving favourite aunt, my sister Rakel Ástrós, had given him the whole day) ”a lousy use of a day and the day is almost over!”
He said to me around that time:
”Mom, I think we have to realize that we have to drive in (to the Children’s Hospital) and I don’t think we should expect to come home again tonight”.
We didn’t.
I had the privilege to spend wonderful hours with Benjamín Nökkvi after his pain was under control, as well as the hours when his consciousness slowly faded away. Even though he was now unconscious, his saturation rose when anyone of all the people he loved so dearly came in to us. Especially when his dad and loving siblings came in and he heard their voices the saturation rose dramatically, which showed us that of course he both heard us and knew we were there with him.
I spoke with him for hours (of course it was a monologue) about all the things he would be able to do when he came to Nangijala – the pig he could now finally get and keep on the balcony, play soccer again, and just run around, oh, and yeah, eat Chicken McNuggets the whole day, because you are allowed to eat that for every meal in Heaven/Nangijala.
Benjamín was able to end his journey here on Earth surrounded with those he so dearly loved, fearless, having had a wonderful week where he used his last week having deep conversations about life. There were thoughts like why some choose to end their life when there is little or no quality of life left, considerations that even if he would get the lungs he was waiting for he might become disappointed, because even though he would get his new lungs he might not be able to do all the things he dreamt about – and endless more discussions that showed once again the wisdom he brought with him to the rest of us living here on earth.
Benjamín was one of these masters that already knew all of those things the rest of us want to learn during our lifetime – serenity, enjoying every day (he was a master of mindfulness!), showing sincere love, never hurt others neither in words nor any other way, being yourself without being afraid what others might think of you and so much more. Like our priest said at the funeral: ”Blessed are the pure hearted…”
After having travelled with Benjamín in the world of different life-threatening diseases for almost 12 years I have to say that I have never met a braver individual and he was the most pure hearted and beautiful soul I have got the privilege to get to know and travel with.
I promise that ”everything will be okay”, with all of us. These words of wisdom he so often said, both through his mouth and also just as often through his eyes: ”Mom, everything will be okay”.
I promise that we will continue to be kind with each other and also quarrel sometimes or cry because we miss you my love, and we will also hug and comfort each other and, the most important thing of all, enjoy life like you taught us so well. We will also continue to be a little wacky, a little weird, do crazy stuff like maniacs and continue laughing together. I promise!
Rest in peace my wonderful, and I know that you have already put together a Super soccer team that will win all leagues in heaven.
I love you, always, my loving Heart ♥
Mom