Why is it that I no longer feel flattened by these days?
YESTERDAY, MONDAY, WAS THE DAY of Sam’s death 17 years ago. Today is the date: 4/30. And I don’t really feel any different than usual. Maybe a little heavier, but otherwise normal.Well, normal is as normal does, right? So far, I’ve followed my normal routine. Up early. Got my coffee and sat outside listening to the birds waking up. Had breakfast, threw in some laundry, went for a walk, and now . . . I’m typing this: Why is it that I no longer feel flattened by these days?
WHEN I BEGAN TYPING THIS (months ago), I didn’t want to overthink or over-edit it, but just type about that thing I was thinking about before I sat down. But every time I sit down to write, like right now, my brain turns to slush.
About HCM and the Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy Association:
Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM) is a common genetic disorder that affects people regardless of gender, ethnicity, age or geographic location.
The HCMA (Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy Association, https://4hcm.org) is the preeminent organization improving the lives of those with hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, HCM, preventing untimely deaths and advancing global understanding.
Founded in 1996, HCMA is committed to providing support, education, advocacy and advancing research, understanding and care to those with HCM.
Lisa Salberg, founder of the HCMA, was and has been really helpful and forthcoming with information since Sam’s (my 9-yr-old son) sudden death caused by HCM.
Contact the HCMA
If you’re in need of info or help regarding HCM, this is the go-to organization. Phone: 973-983-7429; Email: Support@4hcm.org
For years, I had a purpose: to write (to finish) my story (my book).
Every day, that finish line up ahead is what kept me running; gave me energy enough to keep going, editing, rewriting. There was always something to do in order to finish.
Willower: Rewriting Life After Unimaginable Loss was released October 2023. It was hard to finally let go and send my story, which I’d kept hidden for so many years, out into the world. I hope it lands wherever it’s needed most and helps those searching for a story like this to feel less alone in their grief.
I want to say how grateful I am to have worked with Marion Roach Smith, the memoir writing coach who encouraged me and pushed me toward the finish line. And Jessica Hatch, the copy editor who helped me to cross that finish line. I’ve learned so much from both of these brilliant women.
And now: I’m excited to share with you an entire chapter sample—the book’s opening pages: about survival. For more chapter previews, go here.
So much happens in Chapter 1 Sam’s heart. So I’ve pulled out a few pieces for you to sample. And you can read the rest once your book is delivered (wink wink).
Willower: Rewriting Life After Unimaginable Loss was published on October 17 (2023). Which, and this wasn’t planned, happened to be Reggie’s birthday (10/17/2003). Reggie who? Reggie Jackson Little Dude, that’s who—Sam’s puppy.
Reggie, Sam’s puppy, 10/17/2003 – 5/25/2021
Funny story: Once, while in Tampa to see a Yankee spring training game, we saw the Reggie Jackson in the hotel lobby. Excited, David said hello to him and then, pointing to the boys and the skinny pigeon-toed Chihuahua standing with them, proceeded to tell Mr. Jackson that we named our dog after him. (Insert head smack emoji here.) I wanted to hide. It was a pretty awkward moment. I mean, if we had named our son after him, but . . . that funny-looking knock-kneed dog?
about this chapter
In Chapter 2. Living normally, we travel to Boston Children’s Hospital (May 2003) after deciding that BCH has the best “picture taker” in the world.
Willower.org 
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