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An Imperfect Parent
The thing about living in DC is that you’re going to get called for jury duty every other year, no matter what. Even if you’re dead. I have proof! The other day, I came home from school, said hello to my kids, and started opening the mail that my dad had brought inside. Right there on top was a summons for jury duty for Shawn. “Dear God, what the Hell is this?” I said, exasperated, to my dad. Without missing a beat, he replied, “I took care of it.” “What?” I said, confused. “Well, I figured you didn’t need to deal with this so I called the number on the…
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Hallmark Christmas Movies
If you’re an avid reader of my blog, you may feel like you know my dad from his straightforward statements about life and his obvious character choices, such as deciding to help raise my kids, “because it’s the right thing to do.” But you may not know this about him: he loves Hallmark movies. And what are the best movies of all, in his opinion? Hallmark Christmas movies! My sister and I mercilessly make fun of him for this. I’ve pointed out that the only other person I know who loves Hallmark movies like he does is my 10-year-old daughter, and even she understands that they are all basically the…
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My Widow Friend Abena
I was really nervous about attending my first spousal loss group. The first group I went to included two people who were there to grieve their dogs. (I’m serious. You can’t make this stuff up.) So I wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked through the door. As I entered the therapy room, the first person I saw was an old man in a wheelchair who was probably 90 years old. Great, I thought. I sat down on the couch and smiled at him. He looked sad. More people filed in. I was glad (in a bizarre way) to see that there were a few other young people. It…
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All Shawn Ever Wanted for Me
It was Saturday night and I was putting my kids to bed when I got a text from my friend Christine. “Are you awake? Justin and I just picked up someone for you. I showed him your picture!” I was laying down in Tommy’s bed, aimlessly scrolling through the New York Times. I sat up. Did Christine really just write that she and her husband had hit on someone for me? “OMG. Are you out?” I texted back. “We are at a bar. Want his number? Should I give him yours?” she asked. Then she sent a string of ideas about how I should start texting him, but I demurred…
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Grant Showed Us the Way
Below is a piece by my friend and neighbor, Mark. He tells the story of how his son Grant and my son Austin became close friends in the time after Shawn’s death. He begins his story as Shawn is in the hospital. Marjorie was surrounded by best friends and family, which was somewhat of a relief. We were just neighbors who mostly found each other in the adjoining alley where our kids played basketball and learned to ride bikes. The last time Marjorie and I spoke was about three weeks before the service. There still was hope that Shawn would survive. I brought meatballs and pasta for the week. After…
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My Cross to Bear
When I was a kid, I loved to hold my grandmother’s hand. She had a firm grip, but her skin was soft. If I close my eyes, I can feel the contours of her wrist and the bumps of her veins. Maybe it’s odd that I remember the feel of my grandmother’s hands more than that of my own mother’s. My mom often held my hand. But my mom’s hands felt like any other hands – warm and loving, but mostly just normal hands. My grandmother had very advanced rheumatoid arthritis. It plagued her for her entire adult life, mangling her joints and causing her terrible pain. When she was…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
