Sunday, March 22, 2015


When Sammy was 8 years and 35 days old, he died.

Now Yael is 8 years and 35 days old.

Everyone has gotten older.
David was always older, so his advancement in years didn't seem out of place.
Solly was always so much younger...

But Yael? Always the 15-months-younger little sister?
Tomorrow she will be older than Sammy was when he died.

I don't think that she is really aware of the moment that she surpassed her older brother. In some ways, it's every little sibling's dream, right? But when you think about how it actually can's certainly much more of a nightmare. I know that she misses him every day, that her world is so far from the way that she wishes it was....the dream of a little sister to catch up to her big brother is most definitely NOT what she wanted.

None of us did.

How many kids do you have?
How old are they?
13, 8, 8, and 4.
Not exactly....

It never gets easier, does it?

464 days since Sammy died. One year, 3 months and 8 days.

One year ago....Yael wrote a book about Sam
Two years ago....we were planning a celebration
Three years ago....we had no idea that childhood cancer could crash into our lives

This is Sammy, 8 years and 35 days old

Friday, March 13, 2015


Sam relapsed at the very end of March in 2013.

Today I spoke at a St. Baldrick's event, and I stumbled a bit. I said, "last March," and then I realized that it's now TWO YEARS ago that he relapsed. I corrected myself and I almost lost it.

Two years.

I am somewhat stunned by this.

We lived through all of 2014 without him. And we're 3 months into doesn't seem to get easier to think about slogging our way through years and years of this.

And yet we do it.

There are birthdays and plays to attend and movies to watch and a couple of fish that followed us home from the Purim Carnival. There are heads to shave and stories to tell. There is snow melting and spring coming and bike riding and so much that fills my broken heart with love.

Sam loved spring because he loved to be freed from indoors, ready to head outside and seek out the bugs and rocks that he loved, ride his bike as fast as he could, feel the wind on his face. When he was a very small baby, I would take him on walks even when the weather was cold. He complained (as only a baby could complain) when he was covered and calmed down immediately when the wind was in his face. He loved the fresh air...

We breathe it in...the renewal of spring that shows such promise this week. The air is warmer and coats are coming off. We breathe it in and I know that another season beckons...another one without Sam...another one in which his life still fills us with love.

Solly wears this coat now.