Man, do I love the Copleys...

A little more than a year ago, I spent a great deal of time with the amazing Copley family. I had previously written about Tyler, 17, at a time when he was fighting cancer like a Samurai warrior. When he learned his leg was eaten up with cancer, he insisted on having it amputated, so he could go on living his life.

But by the time I made myself a frequent part of the Copley's daily routine, Tyler was dying of cancer. I knew it. He knew it. His family knew it. And we all kind of settled into our roles, none of us having done this before.

Now, my role of writing about a dying young man I''d come to care about, and even love, barely deserves a mention. I was going to say here that it doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as the roles Connie and her husband Todd played, the role siblings Kirk and Sarah played, and, of course, Tyler's. But no duh, it doesn't. But it's the tiny part I had in their story. When I wrote the stories -- I believe I wrote at least five stories chronicling Tyler's fight, his acceptance and his final days -- I tried to do what good editors had taught: Stay out of the way of the story.

So I couldn't say then how much I had grown to love the Copleys -- at least not to anyone other than them, and I did that on more than one occasion.

I have never seen a mother love a son the way Connie loved Tyler. He first had been diagnosed with cancer back in 2002, so for all of his teen-age years, he needed a little more mothering than most. And Connie was up for it. She loved that boy with a selfless, tireless, active love. She was his servant. And I mean that in the best way. Acts of love from the heart of a servant are about as close to the love of Christ as you're gonna see here on Earth. There can be only one mama, as Todd had proclaimed, and Todd wasn't mama. I got to know Todd well -- maybe not quite as well as Connie, but well enough to say this: Connie was Tyler's rock; Todd was Connie's. And Todd was the perfect man for the job of being Connie's soft place to land.

I talked with Connie tonight because I wanted to include an update on how they are doing. I also miss them. And I need to hear someone who's been in a really dark place tell me that things can be OK again. Different, not easy, but OK.

A couple of days ago, Connie took Tyler's prosthetic leg up to Childrens Healthcare of Atlanta to donate it. She also recently mustered up the courage to go back to the AFLAC Cancer Center and see the staff there. "I made them two sheet cakes and a plate of fruit and took it to them to say thanks," she said.

Last Christmas wasn't great. Connie decorated the house, but she didn't feel like it. In fact, it was a chore. Tyler's birthday came, as did dozens of friends, hamburgers, hot dogs and a bonfire. That was better than Christmas.

Sadly, even though Tyler died almost 15 months ago, the Copleys have been around plenty of death since. Because Tyler grew up going to Camp Sunshine cancer retreats and had made so many friends at the AFLAC Cancer Center, there was no way around it.

Connie's faith saw her -- no, sees her -- through this. But there were times Connie really believed that she demonstrated a more active love for Tyler than what she was getting from Jesus.

"I put one foot in front of other and took it day by day," she said. "In my head, I knew I was not alone and am not alone now, even though I have felt that way some of the time. That's just not who God is."

The Copley's story didn't end when Tyler died. And It doesn't end now. Stay tuned.