I’m at my allergist’s office a week ago Monday morning, waiting the requisite 30 minutes after my injection, when I see this story on the TV news about a 21-month-old boy “found dead in a Troy apartment Saturday night. Officials say… Avery James Cahn was left unattended by his caretaker, who police found and brought in for questioning, but was later released.”
My wife and I attended the funeral last Thursday. Continue reading Avery
It’s been relatively easy to talk to my daughter about individual deaths, such as my mother’s earlier this year. She understands that my father, and my wife’s older brother, died before she was born, and has only photos by which to identify them, and that was helpful in the discussion.
But how does one explain the assassination attempt of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, a shooting in which six people were killed Continue reading The Lydster, Part 90: Talking about Tragedy
One of the most interesting things about the book The Orphaned Adult is the very notion that adults, when they lose both of their parents, do fall into a largely unexamined class of people. After all, as the author, Alexander Levy noted, “Parental loss is not the province of an unfortunate few. It is the ultimate equal-opportunity experience, requiring nothing other than children not predeceasing their parents.” So the dearth of literature he found prior to writing this book, published in 1999, is not at all surprising.
The book is an amalgam of stores of Levy’s patients and his own loss of both parents, and how it changed all involved. I’ve written elsewhere about my favorite story in the book.
Early on, he challenges the notion Continue reading Book Review: The Orphaned Adult
Rescuing a bird
Hmm. I said to myself, “Self, do I really want to do this?” I had a whole ‘nother blogpost planned for today. but it IS the anniversary of the death of my father, Les Green. Moreover, it’s the 10th anniversary this very day. You know how those round numbers often hold special significance.
Top picture: Oui, c’est moi de l’enfant.
I wrote about the circumstances of his death five years ago. Here’s the peculiar thing: I misremembered the date that he told us he had prostate cancer! I wrote that he informed us in January 1998, when in fact it was January 1997, during the same trip we had the conversation about spanking.
How could I forget that detail? Easy: as I said before, he was SO cavaliar about it. It was as though he were discussing twisting his ankle. No big deal.
And I suppose maybe that’s what he thought. Continue reading D is for Dad's Death