The Dream

It is a recurring dream. One of reality and one of what would have been; the dream of Joe living, never of him dying. It revisits my memory every day, a haunting ghost, just around the corner, just over my shoulder, just close to my tears. But as we draw close to his birthday and then on to the anniversary of his death I remember his smile, his incredible intelligence, his sarcastic sense of humor. But most of all his devotion to his brothers, his family and his friends.

A Different Thanksgiving

The idea last year was we needed to take flight and not be home for Thanksgiving, but in the end we stayed home. Tony and David's birthday was that weekend and we all gathered around the table for a huge feast. But this year is a very different Thanksgiving not having the boys home for their birthday's or a turkey feast.

So what is one to do when traditions shift? Stay home and try to make it happen with fewer family members or step out and change it up? We choose the latter. Tony will be spending the day at the home of a friend and David, well Thanksgiving is really not a Scottish tradition, so he will do a makeshift celebration with his American friends. We will be in Charleston with rosemary to toss in the bay for Joe.

It seems scattered but in reality it is closer than ever. We keep in touch through emails, Skype and text messages. We are moving on to new territory, totally expected, but the four of us make sure we are always in contact.

And that is what I give thanks for this holiday.

The Tears

I sit on the Family Advisory Council at Levine Children's Hospital. I was making a presentation for our sub committee Healthy Choices which after a slow start we finally found our focus. We decided to find outlets to help families of chronically ill children, or as they are coined at LCH frequent flyers. Each member of this committee has had a child with cancer and one was a family of a burn victim. We know what it is like to be in the hospital for a year or more and then on to scans, reconstructive surgeries and long term therapy. We know while the focus on our children was covered completely, we were, as parents, lost on how to take care of ourselves.

So to get to my tears. During the presentation speaking about Music Therapy I lost it. I felt the flow of almost two years of tears held back in the name of bravery start. There was no way to stop the flood gates. I was raw, exposed and the armor had cracked. Replaying the meeting I was most likely not graceful. Another time in my life I would beat myself up for my for a less than stellar performance, but not this time. When your child is sick it spills over everyone and you cannot avoid the toxic wave.

In the end our recommendations fell on a friendly ear and most will be put in place to help future families at LCH.

Four Hours

I work at the Blumenthal Performing Arts Center as an usher and ironically it has been my best therapy. It is four hours of fun and an opportunity to be with people who don't know about Joe. It is my escape and I feel good at the end of every performance. Even with the stealth vomiter or the patron placed in the wrong seat or the ones who try to bring in a fourteen inch pizza I am happy when I leave. The house is filled with volunteers with one mission in mind: to make attending a theater performance a pleasant experience. They are wonderful.

To my friend, David, who pushed me towards this job and would not take no for an answer, I thank you.