A Diver Comes

It's been a bit of an emotional and tiring week.

On Monday I received a text from a friend saying that a student and friend of mine, Andy Caldera, had gone into the hospital and that the doctors believed he would not survive the day. Andy had been fighting an increasingly tough battle with cancer for the last 10 months. I was thankful that this was happening on a Monday, any other day and I would have been at work. So I drove up to Los Angeles to see Andy and be whatever support I could to the family.

Something that working in a hospital gives you is some insight into what can reasonably be done, especially for someone in Andy's position. I stood in the ER with the family and the doctor in charge as he began to say some things that "could" be done. As I listened to the invasive, painful, and ultimately useless procedures that the doctor dangled before the family as a glimmer of hope. I couldn't help but be saddened knowing none of them could or would be done and that the good doctor had made the inevitable all the harder. When you have a Urologist telling you what could be done in the lungs, be skeptical. I couldn't bring myself to tell Andy's dad that those things wouldn't happen, it's not my place, especially when he spoke with such hope because of what the doctor had said. Hope is not something to be dashed.

On November 17, just 10 days after his 18th birthday, Andy died in the presence of his family and friends. Andy had been in the small group I led for two years while at Wacc. In fact, he was the first student I befriended in the youth ministry. When I began volunteering in the High School Ministry, the first event I attended was the "Lasertag Overnighter". As the night began I suddenly realized that I didn't know any staff or students and that I would be locked in the same room with these complete strangers for 12 hours... it was going to be a long night. I grabbed some pizza and sat to eat alone, how I imagined most of the night would be. Then from across the room I see a big, tall, hairy high schooler wearing an Underoath shirt looking my way. He motioned to his friends and walked toward me, introducing himself as Andy. He and his friends sat down and we all started talking. One of the first things we did was play a game that would become one of our favorites: "Hot Seat". In the game the person in the hot seat has to answer any question posed no matter what it may be. I answered every question they asked, including some you don't often share with near strangers. That night the group of guys went to John, the Youth Pastor, and asked if I could be their small group leader. And thus history was made. I'm glad I was able to work with Andy and all the guys in my small group. I can honestly say that I loved them all. I don't think it was coincidence that I was their leader, or that I would be in Whittier exactly 2 years and move just as they graduated. Or that I would become a hospital chaplain and then be able to use that later with his family. Not for a second.

As I was driving back to San Diego at around 1am I began to think of a song for Andy. A song that I felt was able to encapsulate Andy's life and my feelings. If this sounds weird, it comes from when my sister died. A song that was played at her memorial was Alphaville's "Forever Young". To this day when I hear it I think of her. So now Andy needed a song, or rather I needed a song for Andy. I thought long and hard, nothing seemed right. Then I was struck with the obviousness of he choice because it is my favorite song by Sigur Ros. I opened my mouth and said the name of my favorite song of theirs, "Sæglópur". And immediately that very song began playing on the radio... did I say earlier that I don't believe in coincidence? In case you are saying: "Well of course they are playing the number one song on the pop charts!" know that this song is off an album that is 3 years old and... oh yea... in Icelandic. Not exactly something you hear on the radio, actually now that I think about it I have never heard it on the radio before that night.



It's an amazing song, so full of emotion. And that night as I drove home it was a beautiful reminder to me of Andy's struggle to survive. Sæglópur means "a lost seafarer" and any sailor worth his salt will fight to return home to his family and friends.

Sæglópur, á lífi
A lost seafarer, alive

kominn heim
has returned home

Sometimes those who are lost are able to find their way home. Sometimes those with cancer are able to fend it off and go on living their lives. As the song plays out the music slowly ramps up higher and higher to a fever pitch. I imagine the lost sailor struggling against harsh winds and heavy seas. The battle has become hopeless yet there is nothing that can be done except to push on. In a crescendo, the sailor is thrown overboard. Unlike the others that piloted their ships safely into port, there will be no triumphant homecoming. Or so he thinks.

það kemur kafari
a diver comes

kominn heim
has returned home

Out of the murky depths a diver comes for the unlucky sæglópurs who never made it home in this life. The diver makes the journey for them and brings them home once again. And as I think of Andy taking his final breath in that hospital room, in my mind a diver comes. A diver came to bring Andy to his eternal home. At the moment Andy died their was a feeling of peace where we all silently waited. Before I even knew he was gone, we knew. It had changed, the air had changed. His struggle was over and we were all relieved.


This is for the sæglópur, finally at home. I will miss you.