Open the door. Step into the endless hallway where there are no doors (yet). Stand there. Wait. Minutes, hours, days, months, maybe even years, however long it takes, until another door opens. And trust that there is always another door. Step inside. Accept that your imperfect life is good enough, that you are not broken, … Read more
What happened to your son? It’s a fair question. The “what” of a tragic “Event” is always morbidly fascinating to the Listener, but retelling the story somehow leaves me cannibalized. Mere words only compartmentalize the pain, make it palatable and unbearably Normal …for the Listener. And in the end, the Story I tell is not … Read more
He comes to me sometimes in my dreams, whole, the way he was as a child with his wide, mischief grin and brings me a circular box wrapped in socks. The gift card, written in sloppy orange crayon reads: “I am fragile, handle with care.” Wind picks up; the box is light, too light, as … Read more
Ann Rice wrote about Vampires, monsters condemned to darkness, immortal creatures with strangely human qualities, beset with loneliness. Her fictional demons came to life following the tragic death of her daughter when she “looked around and realized [she] was nobody and nothing. [She] wasn’t even a mother anymore.” Her Vampires personified grief, beasts forced to … Read more
“Safe House” in CIA speak means refuge for defectors “coming in from the cold.” Spies, criminals, “hostiles” and people in danger of being exposed surrender inside to their new Normal, a world so quietly foreign. They begin again, anonymous. They seal the door and become Anyone, anyone but who they really are. There is great … Read more
Excerpts from The Vault: I’m Still Here One morning as I drive to work I catch my reflection in the rearview mirror; a face stares back at me but I don’t recognize me, the light behind her skin has burnt her to coals. Could I have changed so much in just a few months? Will … Read more
Trauma is a special kind of insanity as each day the mind (dis)members what remains and reconstructs a “New Normal.” In the months following the loss of my son I continued working as a trial lawyer; incredulous that I now lived a story so foreign to my former life. I wrote other people’s stories; told … Read more
I’ve made a living as a (ghost) writer; I will be a ghost in my son’s life. He will haunt mine. And in the end, I will wonder who’s life I really tried to save?
It’s nearly impossible to write about this which is why I’ve placed it in The Vault, [My Vault] a large underground chamber [of secrets] used for storage. It’s where I keep my darkest pain. But This—the loss of my son, I can’t keep there anymore. He was too beautiful a soul; he deserves to be … Read more
