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How My Son Found Family Across the Alley
My eight-year-old, Austin, has always held his feelings close. When his father died last January, I worried about how he would fare in the world without the man who understood him best. His older sister talked openly with me about her emotions and his younger brother cried any time I left his sight. But Austin’s grief was quiet. I only knew he was sad whenever I found him curled up in our recliner looking at family photos. I was worried about my son, but I was also consumed by my own grief, and that meant that I could not organize all of the play dates and other activities my children…
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The Talent Show
“Check your email again, Mom,” Claire begged. “I have to know if we made the talent show!” I did. And there was the email – her act had made it into the elementary school talent show. She jumped up and down with joy. “We’re doing ‘Happier’ by Marshmello and Bastille,” she said. “We’re going to sing and dance and wear glittery hats.” That sounded awesome, and I told her so. I smiled at her, and she ran off to practice. I took a deep breath. This was a good thing. Last year’s talent show had been a disaster – she had missed tryouts because I wasn’t reading anything the school…
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The Little Things
Right after Shawn died, I was talking to a girlfriend of mine about how I missed going out to dinner. “We can go out anytime,” she said. “If it’s easier, we can just go out with all of the women.” She was trying to be compassionate. She understood that it could be hard for me to go out with a group of couples, especially so recently after Shawn died. But I didn’t want that, and I told her so. The men in our group – they are my friends too. I appreciated that she was trying to be mindful of my feelings. But what I appreciated even more was that…
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The Clark Family
“Austin can’t come to the phone right now,” my aunt Nancy said to me. “He’s skinny dipping in the pool. I told him he needs to do it fast because the girls will be out there soon!” I laughed, and I could see the smile on her face as well. “Okay, well can I talk to Claire or Tommy?” I asked. In the background, Claire ran by and said, “I can’t talk now!” as she fell over laughing about something. I could see her performing some sort of skit (or dance?) for my Aunt Terry. They were both laughing, and Claire’s enthusiasm was matched by Terry’s. Nancy yelled for Tommy…
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Heroic Work
I met Reed, the man who would become one of Shawn’s cancer doctors, minutes after we first came to NIH. The days before we met him were a blur of horror: I had driven Shawn to the local ER and watched him curl up in pain, hours later Shawn had been admitted to that same local hospital and gotten a colonoscopy, and immediately after the operation we learned that Shawn had stage IV cancer. Then we sat in that local hospital from Friday until Monday and never saw an oncologist. It was one of the worst weekends of my life. Our friends showed up, including our pediatric oncologist friend Jason…
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Reflections at Your Grave on Easter Weekend
I’m sitting on your grave, typing. The workers here already think that I’m crazy – I saw one of them gesture towards me a few minutes ago when I laid my head in the grass – but I’m just going to keep writing. I’m not like all the other visitors. I’ve been here for an hour, and I’ve seen the mourners come and go. They drive up, get out slowly from their cars, and walk to a grave. Maybe they bring flowers. Maybe they stare at the grave for a while. But after a few minutes, they leave. I’m not sure why they would leave on such a beautiful day. …
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
