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The Ides of March

Paranoia is quickly becoming panic as the Coronavirus threat sweeps through the United States. I’m watching it happen with a curious apathy that looks a lot more like exhausted resignation than blind fear. It would be more logical, I suppose, to spend my days and nights in utter terror of losing Cecilia given the fact…

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Brave

The day before yesterday, Cecilia, my father, and myself spent the day at NIH’s Eye Institute having our worst fears about Cecilia’s lack of vision confirmed.  The NIH physician-scientists were very gentle, very kind, and very thorough.  After reading through the records from the long string of doctors Cecilia has been to in her very…

Stand

As a child, adults told me to “face my fear,” but I could never help thinking that if they actually knew what I was afraid of, they would tell me to run instead.  Fear has been the ever-present phantom of my life: slithering through my childhood, seducing me in adolescence, and insinuating itself into my…

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The Futility of Tears

Yesterday was ten months to the day since Lizzy died.  This means that for approximately 300 days, I have cried every day.  The early days spent themselves in oceans of tears, inexhaustible and draining.  Then, like a criminal, I began to hide my tears from those who already felt so helpless to soothe them.  Eventually,…

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Life and Sight

When I walked out of Children’s Hospital the day we turned off Lizzy’s life support machine, I said to my little sister, “I never want to see this place again.”  Then Cecilia moved inside of me.  I paused, then qualified my statement: “Unless, of course, Cecilia ever needed it.” Two weeks ago, I found myself…

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Fourth Sunday of Advent

Meditation: Jesus will return to the world on Judgement Day. When you are inside of time, and–more deeply–when time is your master, it becomes increasingly more difficult to conceive a state of being that is timeless. Death takes us outside of time. Heaven is timeless. So too, will the world become timeless at the end…

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Everything

The rain, cold and crawling, drizzles in pit pats against the flagstone. The porch lights shimmer and reflect, casting shadows into the deep recesses of the giant pines. I walk slowly up and down the front path, Cecilia crying fitfully in my arms. Walking outside in the rain is a last resort in an attempt…