Thanks for Worrying

Written by Jill on December 12, 2011

On Father’s Day (June 15, 2008), my Dad shook my hand and told me what a great daughter I had been for the past 27 years.

A week later, at 11:30 a.m., on June 22, 2008, I went towards our backyard to swim. Dad warned me to be careful, as it was 90 degrees outside and very humid. About 15 minutes into the swim, Dad instructed Mom to walk into our dining room to check on me. She snapped a picture of me, floating around the pool and fine. Dad was comforted.

At 3:30 p.m., that same day, Dad–who had begun feeling ill–walked to our living room, sat on a stretcher, laid back his head and died, a mere four hours after worrying about me, one last time.

If I could say one more thing to my Dad, I’d say, “Thanks for worrying, from day one–when I was a preemie–and all the way to the end.”

More stories from: Featured Story,With My Dad

STUDY and LEARN

Written by Braiden on November 17, 2011

The children in my junior-high-school classes were divided into 10 sections: S-T-U-D-Y and L-E-A-R-N.

“S” and “L” were the highest sections. . .reserved for the “smart” kids. . .those with the highest grades and test scores.

I was lucky enough to be an “L” (although “luck” may be a misleading word, since I loved school and was always a dedicated student and hard worker, although very shy and insecure).

In the “S” section was a young man named Brad Sachs who was infinitely smarter, more vocal, and confident than I could ever hope to be.

In high school I continued to watch Brad mature and prosper. He struck up a particularly strong relationship with the school’s resident psychology teacher, Doc Copeland (a fixture on campus and a friend to many of his students).

And so it was no surprise when, in 2001 (30 years later), a mutual high-school friend alerted me that DR. Brad Sachs–a clinical psychologist and founder and director of The Father Center–would appear on the “Today Show” to tout his latest book, “The Good Enough Child: How to Have an Imperfect Family and Be Perfectly Satisfied.”

I tuned in that morning and guess what? The Brad of my high-school memory was all grown up! I was so proud to know the slim, good-looking, knowledgeable man who spoke with such ease during the interview. And I felt a particular kinship since we had both written several books.

I e-mailed him to congratulate him on his impressive television performance, and we chit-chatted electronically about the old ‘hood, our lives, and families.

In March 2010, right after the launch of FMMW, I got back into contact with Brad to update him on my “encore career” and find out his reaction to the new site.

Here’s what Dr. Brad Sachs was kind enough to say to me:

“It’s always nice to hear from you, but it was particularly nice to hear from you in the context of FiveMoreMinutesWith…

“I think this is a lovely and poignant idea, and I was very touched to read your description of how you and Spencer conceived of the project.

“From my personal and clinical perspective, our culture does not provide much support when it comes to learning to speak and listen to the language of grief, and endeavors such as this one remind us that mortality is our most common aspect of humanity, and that finding ways to come to terms with it, and to grow closer to each other as a result, is the best route towards a life of connection and meaning.”

So thanks, Dr. Brad, for this validation. I am glad we are back in each other’s lives.

More stories from: Featured Story,With All My Loved Ones,With You

Frantic for Only a Few Seconds After an Auto Accident

Written by Braiden on June 23, 2010

Lilies

A friend of mine who lives in New York City was kind enough to forward a link to a New York Times article entitled, Mandela Attends Relative’s Funeral, on the horrific death of 91-year-old Nelson Mandela’s 13-year-old great-granddaughter.

The accident was especially tragic because a close family friend, who had allegedly been drinking while driving and was just 23 years old, caused it.

Barry Bearak’s article is stark and detailed, somber and perfect in tone. But it’s the last few paragraphs that caught my friend’s attention and caused her to send it to me:

The funeral service followed an earlier private burial and it lasted for several hours. Mr. Mandela left early. Several speakers described Zenani and expressed their deep grief. A message from the girl’s bereft mother, Zoleka Mandela-Seakamela, was read aloud.

“I should have let you sleep longer when you told me you were tired,” the message said, according to the Nelson Mandela Foundation. “I should have let you wear all the makeup in the world.

“I should have given you more money, more hugs, more kisses, and I should have whispered more in your ear ‘I love you.’

“If I did all this would you come back to me, even if it was only for a few seconds? I want to hold you in my arms one last time.”

What would you do or say to a loved one if you had only a few seconds left?

More stories from: Editor's Notes