brain cancer

We had no plans for Passover. No one wants to do anything. My mother has always hosted the Seder and led the planning, and this year, as her voice broke, she told me she didn't want to do it. I offered to do something, anything, even just a nod to tradition, in our home. No takers. So I let it go (go ahead and sing. I am one of 4 people on the planet that has not seen this movie. We no longer have a child of the age that enjoys animated features). Passover 2012-Pre-Diagnosis We used to be the Friday night service type. On a regular basis Abby, Sam and I would attend shul. Sam sat with his friends in the front row, and Abby and I sat with my friends, the parents of Sam's friends, right behind them-within shushing and blessing distance. Three times a year we hosted oneg Shabbat after services in honor of our children's birthdays (Oneg Shabbat means joy of Shabbat so we brought snacks and treats because food = joy, right?). We always had cake, and it had to be from costco. Whe...

From John, March 31st, 2014: I�ve been feeling pretty good lately.  We had a wonderful memorial celebration for Sam at Happy Time pre-school, where �Sammy� the Samasourus (a new playground Dinosaur) was unveiled, and a lemon tree was planted in Sam�s memory and honor.  And the cutest little wooden bench, with a memorial plaque, was made by a Happy Time family�s grandfather.  And I didn�t even cry. Ben and I drove out to Sam�s grave recently, while we were in the area.  And neither of us cried. Abby and her friends made a really cool camo-cake and Crabby Patty cupcakes in honor of Sam�s upcoming birthday on April 2.  He would have been 9.  I loved the cake and the mini-celebration we had.  And I didn�t cry.  And yet today, sitting at my desk alone and working, it hit me.  Yes, again, like an iron shovel.  He is gone .  He is not coming back.  I cannot see him.  I cannot touch him.  I cannot hug him or hold his little w...