January 17, 2040, is a significant day for me. It will mean I have gone through 10,000 days without Phil. My son. My baby whom I held in my arms and looked deeply into his eyes. The baby I bonded with, my foxhole buddy. My first born. My boy. In his book, Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell outlines the concept that you become a master at something after you have practiced it 10,000 times. I will be 76 years, 10 months, and
Emma’s Jaw before Surgery. Five years ago I was talking to our youngest daughter, Emma, and she threw her head back and laughed. In that moment I felt sheer terror. When she tipped her head back I was able to see an awkwardly grown jawbone jutting out the wrong way. I wasn’t sure what it all meant but it was the beginning of my awareness that something could happen to my child. Was it a tumor, cancer, a bone disorder
25 Years of Marriage My husband Paul and I just celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary on the 22 of November, 2014. We went away for a few days and stayed in a cabin. We worked, ate, drank and relaxed. We went thrift store shopping and antique shopping and tried a few restaurants. It was a fun little trip. It has been difficult since Phil died. We are often quite tired and these little trips have become our escape from the
I am so lucky. I was thinking about everything that happened and how it is circumstances. I can never change the circumstances yet I can choose how I handle those circumstances. I really am fortunate. I am fortunate that I had 22 years with such a great kid. He taught me so much. He loved me. He helped me learn. I loved his smell, smile, quirks and enjoyed being around him. He had this great laugh and I am fortunate
My son is gone. I miss him. Today is the second of January. Yesterday was four months since the police showed up one beautiful afternoon and informed us my son was no longer a part of this earth. I still do not know how that can be. My son was healthy. He was strong. He was beautiful and perfect. Remembering my son at birth. I remember when my son was born. I carefully unwrapped him. He was my first born.