Sunday, September 4, 2011

I sat on the plane playing Angry Birds with tears dripping down my face

I wasn’t sure exactly the best way to explain death to William but I knew it would wait until we got home.  My friend Cheryl called me while we were on our way to the airport with some awful news.  Will’s therapist Joan had died while we were on vacation.  She had been in a motorcycle accident four weeks earlier but I had talked to Joan twice before we left.  I thought she was going to be fine.  She told me that the doctor said it would take a year for a full recovery and that she wouldn’t be able to work with Will for a while.

It is possible to have a therapist come to your house four hours a week for a year, work with your child and not become friends; but often you do.  And we had.

I took William to the wake, hoping that he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate.  He pinched someone.  But she said it was alright and I decided to take her at her word. He pinched me a lot while I was talking to Joan’s mom and we quickly left.  I didn’t bring him to the funeral.

I don’t know how much he understood.

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