Chapter 4. Monday

4 minute read

First, you may be thinking, Why would anybody want to write about the death of their child? It’s certainly not for everyone. But for me, it was the only thing I could do. Over the years, while I was writing this story, or talking with a friend, or a grief therapist, or singing (screaming and crying) at the top of my lungs while driving alone . . . I was also re-learning how to live with these details that are forever etched in my memory.

about this chapter

Chapter 4. Monday is the day (April 30, 2007) when the unthinkable happens.

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Chapter 5. Still here

4 minute read

I’ve been processing my son Sam’s death now for several years. You may be seeing/reading this story for the first time, and so it may be shocking or uncomfortable for you. But I hope you’ll be brave and read or share Willower: Rewriting Life After Unimaginable Loss with someone you know who is trying to process their loss.

about this chapter

In Chapter 5. Still here, time, a recurring theme throughout the book, keeps moving on despite what has happened. I hate time for that, for moving only forward, for not stopping and allowing me to go back, to bring Sam back.

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Chapter 6. Searching

3 minute read

Here are a few more snack-sized appetizers from my book—so you can get a taste of my writing style. (And by the way, the green boxes with orange text that you see throughout these posts are actual excerpts from my chapters.) Bon appétit!

about this chapter

Chapter 6. Searching is about the pain, the sleep deprivation, and the lunacy that follows loss.

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Chapter 7. Rewriting

3 minute read

Note: The featured image you see of Officer Twisdale and Sam over his shoulder was created by the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office for their newsletter in which they published part of Sam’s Story.

about this chapter

Chapter 7. Rewriting, as you can tell by its name, is a major theme in the story. It was during a grief counseling session when I got the idea of rewriting my story stuck in my head.

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Chapter 8. Grieving

3 minute read

Back in 2023, while proofreading the final copy of Willower (as a reader instead of a writer), I was wondering the whole way through, How did I do this? I know how I did it, obviously, but I mean how did I do it? Does that make sense? A lot of the text was written when I was in a much darker place, in another world. I’d worked for years, sitting with Sam, and we were writing together. Now what?

Publishing a book, I’ve learned, isn’t always celebratory. It felt more like, What do I do now? I guess it’s time to reflect on where to migrate to next.

about this chapter

Chapter 8. Grieving moves through the first year after Sam’s death (2007).

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Chapter 9. Migrating

3 minute read

I hope you’ll read my book Willower and/or share it with someone you think it may help. I know a grief memoir might not be what you had in mind for your next read, but haven’t you been averse to other things, like Brussels sprouts, but you tried them anyway? Good storytelling, no matter the subject, is just plain good storytelling. And like Brussels sprouts, reading a good book also has health benefits. And, when you do read it, you’ll also be keeping my son Sam’s memory alive. So . . . No pressure.

about this chapter

Chapter 9. Migrating moves through the years after Sam’s death (2007), from 2010 to 2018.

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Chapter 10. Seeing

2 minute read

about this chapter

Chapter 10. Seeing is set in May 2018, eleven years after Sam’s death.

In this chapter, I realize I’m coming to the end of our story, yet I question why it is I can never seem to finish it. I continue to search for meaning, an answer, a reason, a mathematical solution, anything that might be something, some connection to Sam. But . . .

I keep getting lost, ending up back at the beginning again, starting over, never finishing.

(from Chapter 10. Seeing: crazy math)
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Chapter 11. A different ending

3 minute read

Wearing my “promoting” hat instead of my “writing” bandanna is way out of my comfort zone! I don’t like selling anything, but this book was my work for sixteen years; and now, I really want this brutally sad but beautiful story to find those who need it. Maybe that’s you? Maybe it’s someone you know, support, or counsel? A friend, a neighbor, a family member? Or maybe you know me, and knew Sam, but don’t know the whole story. I hope you’ll read it.

about this chapter

One of the reasons I wrote this book: I needed our story to end differently.

I always knew what I was writing to, what the ending of this story would be: my beautiful boy Sam would live, stay alive, through the power and magic of words.

Chapter 11. A Different Ending is set eleven years after Sam’s death, in May 2018.

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side effects of rewriting

reading time 2 minutes

In grief, sometimes you’ll feel stuck.

What if, instead of seeing the idea of being stuck as a negative, we think of it as being anchored for a period of time. Which sounds okay, doesn’t it? Anchoring yourself in the silence, in meditation, in the remembering? In grief, the rewiring process that goes on deep inside you sometimes requires a serious shutdown—a rebooting of sorts.

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Landslide

reading time 3 minutes

Fall. The air is changing. It’s still muggy but less hot now. 

Though it’s hidden behind the clouds, the moon is full today.  

Oh, mirror in the sky

What is love?

I’ve done my best, tried until I couldn’t see straight anymore, or find any other errors to fix. It’s 9/29/23, 18 days until . . . my book, my beloved son, both fully grown now, will soon fly away, and be free of me and my perfectionist ways. To live their lives on their own. Though not alone, never alone. 

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