Friday, October 9, 2009


I haven't felt much like writing lately. I feel obligated after my last post to let those who've inquired about us know that we're doing okay. Like most we've been dealing with busy fall activities and a bout of flu with the girls.

Emotions lately have been dampened. I'm thankful to a degree. The downs were harsh and painful, the ups too brief to be relieving. Now its less of the same. Waking to our reality each day is again becoming more routine, but I'm finding that I feel more vulnerable than I ever have.

October brings with it the beginning of the season in which we discovered Henry's cancer. Early signs that were only recognizable in retrospect. A child with incredible stamina, drifting off to sleep in the midst of a 10 minute car ride. An 'illness' that persisted far too long. October brings with it a multitude of dates which are reminders & anniversaries. Diagnosis, surgery, relapse, Disney.

We walk forward carefully, keeping these in our peripheral vision and hoping to acknowledge them without being bowled over by them. Wanting to remember because those memories include him, but knowing that in remembering we must conjure up painful details as well. This is the tough part to navigate - getting close enough to feel the heat but not so close to get burned.


Susan said...

Wow that part about peripheral vision hit home for me! I have not been able to describe what it is and how I manage to doing the everyday things of life while grieving but I think that explains it very well.

Sorry you are walking through that minefield right now.

Carol Herrmann said...


I wanted to say hello, and tell you that I think often of your family and your sweet Henry.

It is hard to believe it has been two years. It has been two years for us as well. Caroline was diagnosed September 20, 2007. So much happened that October - and those things are now just crushing memories and images - diagnosis, surgery, pathology report, more surgery...and last October, recurrence and tumor progression, hospice...Yes, October is full of memories.

I remember Henry's surgery that day in October 2007, Caroline was having her port put it. We were waiting by the elevators outside the PICU. We were numb and speechless with grief - and I felt so sorry for you. I felt so sorry for all of us that day. I remember them wheeling Henry towards the PICU, and your immediate relief that he was out of surgery, and your momentary panic over where his paci was. We were a little ahead of you on the journey, and I remember thinking I should reach out to you and tell you it would be okay. But I couldn't, because I wasn't sure if anything would ever be okay again.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you and Tara that I remember, because I was there. I hope you are doing well, I can tell you are trying, just like we are. I think of you often and will always remember little Henry.

Carol Herrmann

Anonymous said...

Still here. Still reading. Still thinking of your family every day.

Sherry said...

I wanted to share this with you..I lost my 10 year old nephew Oct. 2 2004..he was hit by a speeding driver while checking the mail..I know our story is different from your family..but I think the poem is so fitting for a parent that lost there child~~~

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in other's eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so that they don't hurt quite so much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child..

Granya and DeeDad said...

To Henry's Family,

We are remembering with you as October 13th
approaches again - we all knew it was bad news - and we all hoped it wouldn't be this bad, this final, this sad.

It was with sadness and pride that we watched as Henry's family fought for his life and now as they go on with just his memory - they go on with grace and honor and courage. Just as Henry did.

Anonymous said...

thinking about you too.

Sareen Hebb said...

Our family continues to think of yours daily. Know that you are in our prayers.

Every time Rachel gets a balloon she sends it up to Henry.