Nathan Thomas Raun
Nathan Raun lived a short life, passing away at the age of thirteen after a ten-month battle with brain cancer. Despite his youth, Nathan possessed a remarkable faith in God and love for others. Nathan’s courage, resilience, and sense of humor in the face of his illness and eventual death have inspired many people.
Nathan’s Life
Nathan was born in Lincoln, Nebraska on August 5, 1985. As a child, he learned about God and his Catholic faith. The faith became central to who he was, how he thought, and how he lived.
Nathan attended St. Joseph’s Catholic School in Lincoln. He was known for his daily expressions of joy, kindness to others, and sense of humor. He cherished and loved his family, cousins, classmates at St. Joseph’s, and the members of his sports teams. He also loved to sing and learned to play the violin.
Starting in December of his 6th-grade year, when Nathan was just twelve years old, he began to experience troubling medical symptoms: neck pain, a limp in his left leg, and blurred vision. On January 27, 1998, doctors discovered that Nathan — despite his general health — had a brain tumor. Immediately, many people within the Lincoln community and beyond rallied to support and pray for him.
That night, Nathan was driven via ambulance from Lincoln to Iowa City for surgery. On January 28th, Nathan’s first day in the hospital, he asked, “Why does this have to happen to me? I’m just a kid.” His mother responded, “Nate, I don’t know why you had to get this. Nobody knows. We will probably never know. But, why not you? God chose you. He must feel that you are a strong and courageous person and that only you could handle this. We have to be open to God’s plan for us. He will take care of you.” Nathan accepted this and surrendered himself to God’s will. The night before his surgery, as the family prayed, they asked God to spare Nathan and cure him. When they asked Nathan if he had a prayer, he responded, “Yeah, I want to pray for all those having surgery who don’t have anybody to pray for them.”
On February 2nd, the Feast of the Presentation, Nathan underwent brain surgery to remove a malignant Glioblastoma Multiforme Grade IV tumor. The same day, back in Lincoln, the 6:30 a.m. morning Mass at St. Joseph’s was offered for Nathan and his doctors. The entire church was full of people praying. The surgery successfully removed the tumor, and after fifteen days in the hospital, Nathan was able to return home on February 11th for 4 rounds of chemotherapy and 36 brain radiation treatments.
Over the next few months of continued treatment, Nathan gave up many of the gifts God had given to him: his hair, his eyesight, some of his hearing, his strength, and his ability to walk. He could not taste food, use his left hand, or participate in sports and other activities. In the midst of his suffering, Nathan never let go of two gifts: his faith and his sense of humor. He believed that God wanted to heal him. “I just know I am going to see again. I just have this strong feeling.” He was often found praying, kneeling painfully next to the couch, holding a crucifix.
Nathan inspired and brought peace to many people through the way he bore his suffering. God sustained his faith, his childlike surrender, and his hope for healing despite his increasing pain and disability. Many diocesan priests visited Nathan to bring him Holy Communion and to offer their prayers and love. He was strengthened by this frequent reception of the Blessed Sacrament and the Sacrament of Penance and by praying the rosary with others. He grew to understand and accept the passing nature of this life and began to focus his attention on his ultimate destiny in heaven. Most of all, he wanted to bring others along. Rather than seeking pity, Nathan — with his persistent sense of humor — encouraged others to share in his faith, hope, and joy.
In August, Nathan wanted to go back to school. He was now enrolled in 7th grade, having kept up his studies with a tutor during the previous spring semester. His school day consisted of receiving daily Holy Communion and offering the Anima Christi in thanksgiving. He walked from class to class with students assisting him and worked with a tutor for blind students. Nathan could only attend for a part of the school day and would rest in a cot in the classroom when he got tired. His teachers and classmates worked hard to assist him and make it possible for him to participate. Although he was physically weakened, his ability to tell funny stories to his classmates and the other schoolchildren put them at ease.
On October 9, 1998, Nathan had a focal seizure in his left hand and was transported to Children’s Hospital in Omaha. An MRI revealed that the tumor had returned. It was evident that Nathan would die. That night, Nathan’s parents told him the tumor was back. Nathan cried for five minutes. Then he stopped crying, dried his tears, and proceeded to tell them where he wanted to be buried and what he wanted them to do with his belongings. During the middle of the night, Nathan woke up and asked, “How long do I have?” When they told him that they didn’t know, but a miracle could still happen, Nathan responded, “Oh Momma, I just want to go to heaven.”
The next morning, doctors and nurses continued to come into the hospital room, waking Nathan up over and over again. After the fifth time, Nathan said, “I must be in Hell.” Then, he rolled over and said jokingly, “Momma, is that you? What are you doing here?” In all of his suffering, Nathan let his sense of humor bring joy and light to those around him.
A family friend gave Nathan $400 to buy something for himself or go somewhere before he died. Nathan quickly decided he wanted to have a party for his friends and family. With the help of his friends and their parents, they began planning a party.
On October 21st, Nathan went to pick out his cemetery plot. He seemed to know that this would be hard for his parents, so he tried to keep things light-hearted. When his grandma arrived at the house, she saw Nathan out front in his wheelchair, waiting to leave. She asked him, “Are you going somewhere, Nathan?” He smiled, “Yeah, we’re goin’ grave huntin’, Grandma!” At the cemetery, he had several requests. He did not want to be buried under a tree because he preferred that dogs would avoid doing their business on his grave. He didn’t want to be in the shade, but wanted to be out in the open, so the sun would shine down on his grave. He asked his dad if at Halloween he would get a fake hand and have it sticking out of his grave. When he finally found the spot, his parents walked a few gravesites over to visit another grave. They heard Nathan singing and when they looked back, they saw him in his wheelchair on the plot, eyes closed, face turned upward basking in the sunlight. “Oh, Mr. Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun, please shine down on me.” When he finished that song, he sang “You Are My Sunshine.”
Nathan’s party took place on the evening of October 23rd at the Knights of Columbus Hall in Lincoln. According to Nathan’s specifications, the guest list included all the 6th, 7th, and 8th graders from school, their families, his family, and the old baseball teammates and their families. Guests were treated to Taco Inn, a soda machine, and a dance party. His parting gift to many of his classmates and friends was a night to dance, laugh, and enjoy each other.
Nathan began to receive hospice care on November 9th. His classmates, friends, and family members came to say their goodbyes. The day before he died, at 10:00 p.m., a retired priest and family friend arrived and offered to say Mass for Nathan and his family. This priest, who had married Nathan’s parents, suffered from Parkinson’s Disease and offered the Mass from his wheelchair, his voice barely audible and his hands shaking. After Mass, Nathan’s breathing — which had become labored and difficult — was suddenly easy and remained so throughout the night. The next morning, his breathing became labored again.
Nathan and his family loved St. Thérèse, the Little Flower. They had asked for her intercession daily during Nathan’s illness. The family had also asked Jesus to provide a priest at Nathan’s moment of death. The evening of November 25, around 8:20 p.m., Nathan’s grandma noticed a boy standing at the front door. She opened the door and he handed her a bouquet of roses and told her they were for Nathan. She accepted them and noticed there wasn’t a card. The boy said again, “They are for Nate.” A few moments later, the doorbell rang, and the assistant pastor walked in and joined the family at Nathan’s bedside. At that very moment, Nathan died. God, in his goodness, sent St. Thérèse to escort Nathan to heaven and a priest to comfort the family in Nathan’s moment of death.
Nathan died on November 25, 1998, at 8:25 p.m., surrounded by family and friends. Due to the large crowd who wanted to attend, the Vigil and Rosary were held at the Cathedral of the Risen Christ. Fr. Mark Tasler, Nathan’s regular confessor in his last year of life, led the rosary. The Funeral Mass was celebrated at the cathedral on November 30th, followed by the burial at Calvary Cemetery in Lincoln, NE. Msgr. Pleskac celebrated the Mass and burial. Nathan was buried on the feast of his confirmation saint, St. Andrew.
Nathan’s Witness
Nathan’s joyful life and faith-filled death demonstrate the redemptive value of suffering. His surrender to God’s will continues to inspire others in joyful confidence in God in the midst of their own suffering.
