The Rock of Permanence

I had someone tell me that the second year of loss is harder than the first. Naturally, I was dubious. After all, our first year without Kylie was devastating from every conceivable angle. What could possibly be more difficult than living in the recent aftermath of the loss of a child? Wouldn’t you assume that things would get a little better with the passage of time? I certainly did.

But there are stark differences between year one and year two.

In year one, you realize what a powerful thing delusion can be. The grieving mind plays tricks and dreams up scenarios where life is impossibly restored and you believe it simply because you want to – it is easier to believe than to live in reality. Memories pull you back to simpler times before the loss as a coping mechanism. Additionally, the tremendous shock of the loss serves as a numbing agent to the depth of pain and longing involved in the tragedy. I don’t know how long experts would say that shock lasts after such an event, but it slowly peters away.

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The Regrettable Education of Michael Buble

Upon hearing the news of his son’s cancer diagnosis, my heart immediately went out to this man I have never met and likely never will. Obviously, I hurt for his entire family. But as a father who has also heard the dreaded words, “your child has cancer,” I can identify more with Noah’s Daddy and the cries of utter helplessness pounding a discordant melody inside his weary mind.

Quite frankly, this is awful and I don’t wish it on anyone, famous or otherwise. There are things he is in the process of discovering that no man should be forced to learn – yet his education is being forged in the pristine environment of a hospital and it can’t be stopped. He can’t withdraw from school, clep out of an exam, or skip this grade. There is no syllabus and the lectures can change violently at a moment’s notice. This is not a bunny class… basket-weaving 101. No, this is AP post-graduate work – a trial by fire where no grades are curved and no group study is allowed. Sharpen your pencil and take your seat, this class is the hardest that the School of Life has to offer.

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