How are we doing today?

I have spoken with almost a dozen parents who have lost children recently. We talk about how much pain our children did or did not suffer before they died. We talk about what those last moments must have been like, knowing we will never really know, and feeling as parents we somehow deserted our children because we were not there for those last moments -to protect and to comfort. We talk about needing to know everything about how they died while dreading the answers. We talk about whether our children were happy and had led fulfilling lives for their short time on earth. We talk about whether their short lives will be remembered, or whether they will be forgotten.We talk about our loss, and our children's loss and ....we talk about our need, our hunger, "to do" in their memory . We talk about emptiness, and loneliness and pain and being different from other parents as a result of our loss. "How are they doing?"  ..."How am I doing?" "How are we doing?"

It is not often anymore that anyone asks me how I am doing and really wants to know how I am doing today.  I wonder if all my activities in Casey's memory suggest to others that I am doing well? I think I am doing well and then .... Is doing well getting on with life-as I seem to be doing; or  rearranging my priorities and trying to help others in Casey's memory-as I seem to be doing; or believing that there is so much opportunity for good in this world-as I fervently do? Is doing well having that acute searing, agonizing, terrible jagged hole in my gut, the emptiness of Casey's death and loss, become less, almost like the jaggedness is gone, like a rusty sword, dulled and smoothed over as a result of 3 years of suffering?

What is doing well?  Does it even matter how I am doing as long as I am doing and busy and distracted and  open  to accept the gifts that are offered to me by others ?

Long car rides

Today I had a 2 hour drive to Scranton, PA.  I start thinking, thinking of Casey and there are no distractions as I sit in the car and drive. I am captive to my own emotions and there is no escaping them. Still after 3 years it is hard to drive long distances alone.We had driven that route so many times as a family -going to see my parents, Casey's grandparents. Seeing if she could hold her breath as we went through the tunnel on the Turnpike, wanting to stop at the rest stops, acting silly and goofy and wanting to get fireworks  in Matamoras, or stopping at the flea market at the Monticello Racetrack for bargains with her mother. All those memories come and I am flooded with emotions and alone in the car and no one to talk to. Sometimes I hate long car rides.

Casey's love for animals is making a difference...but

We spent the 3rd anniversary of Casey's death performing service at Magee Rehabilitation Hospital in Philadelphia and announced the new facility therapy dog we had funded. Ford, is an 8 year old Golden Retriever and is such a kind, gentle and loving presence. His unconditional love for the patients, many of whom have suffered devastating and life-altering injuries, is palpable as are  the patients' reactions to him. The patients are better motivated and willing to work harder for Ford. Here is a link to a video:

http://philadelphia.cbslocal.com/2012/07/17/health-dog-therapy-to-honor-casey/

I was in Chicago speaking with lawyers who will participate in the distracted driving presentations in high schools across the country during the 2012-13 academic year. It is gratifying to do all of this in Casey's memory.  But...  I am realizing that while all of this is good, and I will continue to do these things, they are distractions so that I don't dwell on the enormity of my loss. I still can't look at more than a few pictures of Casey at a time without getting very emotional. Or listen to her voice on one of the videos we have . Or sit in her room and look at her posters, clothes, trinkets and all the items that she collected that represent her energy, compassion, love for people and animals and family and friends. The tragedy of Casey's death would be compounded if we could not do all these positive things in her memory. But that does not make it any less cruel or unfair.

3rd Anniversary

Tuesday will be the 3rd anniversary of Casey's death. Sometimes it seems like yesterday and other times , and this scares me, I seem to have gotten used to it in a way. I was reading some of the e-mails and cards and letters that came in from kind folks after Casey's death and while it is very emotional to do so , they are comforting-the common thread was that for those who knew Casey the shock of losing someone with so much energy, compassion and vitality made them want to change the direction of their lives and to become better people. For those who did not know Casey they were touched by learning about her and also wanted to become kinder and gentler people. Looking into a future without Casey is painful, as painful as it has ever been-for what she has lost and what we have lost by not having her here. So I don't really look into the future and miss her and know that half of our family's future was destroyed three years ago. The loss to her and all who knew her and those who would have been touched by her is so profound and I cannot grasp it. I  know that for what we have been through nothing really scares me and  that I do appreciate life much more. I understand how life and health are gifts, and how important people-relationships - are and that I am impelled to do things, create and touch people in Casey's memory and will always feel that is my mission.  I am  at times more fulfilled than I have ever been as I  mourn Casey's absence, missing here, remembering her and making certain that her life and memory make a difference in this world.

Moms and Dads: Mother's Day and Father's Day

On Mother’s Day, this year and the two prior years, Casey’s absence was palpable. I did what I thought I needed to do, remind my wife Dianne that she was a great  mother, so warm, loving and supportive, and  that Casey loved her and that she had been responsible for helping Casey live a wonderful 21 years. I asked how she was doing on  Mother’s Day, with one of her children dead. She told me that , for her, all days are like Mother’s Day-that day was no worse than any other. I did not really get the full significance of what she meant until Father’s Day.  Father’s Day this year was very difficult for me, more so than the two prior years, and definitely more difficult that other days. It is two-edged-what I have lost and what Casey has lost and will never have. And about a week or so later it struck me -For Di, a mother who has lost her child, are all days for her like my Father’s Day? Are there not days that are easier for moms? 

Like only a daughter could....

I was on the treadmill and watching "Power Ball." Brad Pitt's daughter sings him a song and I start sobbing like I have not for some months. A young girl singing a song about life's troubles, life being a "riddle." But also about hope and possibilities. Her name is Casey too. I hear Casey, my Casey, in my mind singing show tunes, and remember that when she would sing and our eyes would connect she would give me that sweet, yet confident and knowing look--knowing that she was touching me like only a daughter could. I wonder if I see these things, these reminders of Casey , to remind me that I am getting on with my life without her..and maybe getting on too well.

For Casey's 21st Birthday three years ago

Thinking about Casey today-what would be/is her 24th birthday. Looking through old e-mails from before she died and found the one I sent to her three years ago today:

Not to get too sentimental but I was thinking about that day 21 years ago when you were kind enough to appear and make me a father-one of my greatest blessings in life and for which I am so grateful every day. The eagerness, the worry-your Mom did not want to get to the hospital fast enough for me. And just that feeling when you arrived and we knew you were fine and healthy. I fill with emotion when I think of how wonderful a young woman you are, bright, sensitive and caring and sooooooooooo hard working . I also think about how you have handled the “downs” and I so appreciate you sharing some of those with me also-now that Dad tries to keep his mouth shut and listen its probably easier to do so.

I will try to call you later as I know you are working—hey you are 21-kiss as many strange boys as you want!!!

I love you very much sweetie

Filling with emotion today also-still so very proud,still blessed to have Caey as a daughter but raw, painful and empty