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What If He Dies?
I woke up in the dark this morning, and I was alone. I could hear Chris rustling in the next room, probably putting things in his overnight bag. He was leaving on a very early flight. His job is still based in Atlanta, and thus to Atlanta he had to go. I wasn’t fully awake yet, and so I simply laid there, listening to his quiet movements. He stepped softly, not wanting to wake me up. He loves me so much, I thought. I’m so lucky to have him, I thought. And then, in an instant, my thoughts turned. What if he dies? I thought. My heart started to race.…
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Do You Have Any Memories of Your Dad Shawn?
The music was on in the background – Fleetwood Mac, I think – and Chris bustled around the kitchen getting dishes in the cabinets and napkins for the table. In the living room, Claire and Austin did homework. At the stove, Tommy slowly stirred the pasta as I cooked some salmon next to him. It was just an everyday moment, one where no one was saying much, but we were together. “I miss Shawn,” Tommy said. It happens sometimes, that Tommy says something that maybe the rest of us – even Austin and Claire – usually reserve for more reflective times. But Tommy is still young and he says things…
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Hello, 2022… (Part 2 of 2)
Hello, 2022. Hello love stories. Hello to embracing the hard things we have to face, and laughing at the joys we get to have. I think we’ll find a lot of them this year. Hello to long runs and walks with friends, backyard barbecues with family and long adventures on bikes with Chris. We haven’t beat you yet, Covid, but we’ve learned to still have fun with you around. Hello to letting others accompany me in my grief. No one can fix it. But you can be by my side. Hello to love that I can see and share with you all. Hello to seeing (and hearing!) the love between…
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People You May Know
Below is a post that was written by my husband, Chris. As I’ve noted before, I wish he would write more often, but he feels that this blog is mine and so he usually wants to stay in the background. Still, I managed to convince him to write something recently, and it struck me as a great post for this time of year, when I’m thinking a lot about Shawn. I have a rudimentary, but serviceable understanding of how the internet works. Part of what that means in 2021, is recognizing that at any given time, there is a symphony of equations, code, algorithms, cookies, and probably lots of other…
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Old Places, New Meanings
There is a farm where the earth is flat and the grass is brown this time of year, but the fireplace is so warm that it’s hard to stay awake next to it. Up above, the birds fly in large flocks, and even when I’m out on a long run, I can see the house in the distance, glowing. The house is old and creaky, with pipes that mostly work and bookshelves that hold generations of memories. It is a place where you can curl up with a blanket all afternoon, just like we both have done over the years. It is a place that I have loved for many…
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Bride of Frankenstein
In our family, we take Halloween very seriously. It’s funny that one of my favorite holidays is the one that’s all about spirits, supernatural beings, and death. You should see our front yard – it’s covered not just in cobwebs and spiders, but also in skeletons and graves. The first year after Shawn died, I worried my kids would hate Halloween, but I was wrong. They weren’t bothered at all by the decorations or by the themes that surrounded them everywhere they went. But I was. That year, I fixated on how – the year prior – Shawn had been so ill on Halloween that he’d barely left the house.…
There’s No Handbook for How to Do This
