Gavan was dying. We knew it, Patricia and I, and James, his brother, all three of us knew it. He was struggling with life itself. But Gavan, he wouldn’t accept it. He remained confident that the experimental drugs would work, that he would recover, that he would return to college, see his friends, that this... Continue Reading →
With his long hair and gentle ways. The first anniversary of Gavan’s passing.
I flinch from cancer stories, avert my eyes, turn my head. Avoid. If it's on the radio I turn down the sound, on the TV, I change the channel. It is all too painful, I fear I will be overwhelmed. I frequently am overwhelmed. I have, we all have, lost friends, close friends, comrades, co-worker’s, family to cancer. It has... Continue Reading →
The Taxi Driver – Reflections on my son’s terminal illness.
I am not working this year. Not that I have retired, the official reason is that I have taken “leave of absence” from the law and in theory will return to the law at the end of the year. Whether I will or not remains an open question, for I am very tired now. I... Continue Reading →