Superman Sam

Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Never an adult...

There's something about turning 18, isn't there? A whole new list of adult things you get to do, places you can go, responsbilities you have. You can sign your own permission slips!

When a person turns 18, they think they're so old. And yet, the older I get, the more achingly young 18 seems to be.

And yet...it's the 10th time we're celebrating Sam's birthday without him.

Read that sentence again. The TENTH time. How can it be that we've done this ten times?

I read back over my old posts and I think about each year, how I wrote that we were just baffled by how the time had gone by. This feeling never goes away. How did we get here? How can ten years have gone by? How can we be counting in the double digits?

And yet we are. And he is not here.

I talk a lot about grief, and how it evolves. Like one of those trees that grows around something else, adapting to its environment - we've grown around the Sam-shaped hole in our lives. We've healed around it, stronger in some ways and weaker in others. We're never going to be an ordinary tree again. We're something new, something different. (Picture below for illustration because it made me think of Sam and our eye-bombing adventures.)

And it breaks my heart that Sam isn't here to evolve with us.

Happy 18th, Sammy. We miss you every day of every week of every month.

Solly is shaving this year, and maybe you'd like to make a donation? https://www.stbaldricks.org/events/Mitzvah2023

2nd birthday: Best Shot Monday
3rd birthday: Birthday marathon
4th birthday: This is your birthday song
5th birthday: Five is a big number
6th birthday: Six is Awesome
7th birthday: Lucky Number Seven and Birthday Boy
8th birthday: Little Things
9th birthday: Birthdate
10th birthday: Just Not Okay
12th birthday: Dozen Donuts
13th birthday: I'm Sure
14th birthday: Because You Haven't Grown Up
15th birthday: Frozen

16th birthday: Sweet 16
17th Birthday: This isn't 17

Tuesday, December 13, 2022

Unbroken Streak

There's a whole culture now around creating a "streak." What's your Wordle streak? How many days in a row have you done the Mini Crossword? Did you close your watch rings all the days this month?

I have a love-hate relationship with these streaks. I really like adding up all those numbers, but I also sometimes defiantly break my streaks so I'm not beholden to them. This week, I broke my Wordle streak but I hit a couple of high personal-high streaks - the crossword puzzle, Duolingo...

Somehow, all of these coming together THIS week felt...like something. Because it made me think of the streak I've never wanted to count - 3,288 days since Sam died. NINE years. Nine YEARS. It's more years than we knew him. It's more years than he was alive.

And it's just not right. How did we get here?

Our lives have changed so drastically in the last nine years. The Sam-shaped hole in our lives has softened, become a little pliable. We think of him, we talk about him, but the edges have blurred with time. There's less pain, and more ache. There are some memories that are still sharp, in full focus, and there are others that are cushioned by forgetfulness. The photos tend to bring smiles rather than tears.

We have had no choice but to continue to put one foot in front of the other, to grow older each day, even though Sam did not. We have had no choice but to make new memories and new stories, even though Sam is not there to be in them. We have had no choice but to switch to the past tense, even though Sam is always so very present.

Nine years have gone by, with us missing him each moment.

Tuesday, November 8, 2022

This isn't 17

Dear Sammy,

Possibly, you’d want to be called Sam at this point. Let’s start over.

Dear Sam,

Nope. You're always going to be Sammy to me.

Dear Sammy,

Today you’d be 17. You’re not here, of course, but if you were….it would be a big party, I’m sure. Or maybe a small one? Just a few friends over for a special dinner.

You’d be deep in the throes of college prep, and filling out your application for Avodah. Would you be trying out for the musical? Or what about that French horn you might have asked for when you were 10, maybe you’d still be playing that. Or none of those. And you’d be doing something completely different.

There is a lunar eclipse this morning - for your birthday. It’s a fairly rare phenomenon, one that isn’t going to happen again for three years. I’m sure I would have made everyone learn about the lunar eclipse and eat something moon-themed. You probably would have rolled your eyes but also humored me. Because that’s what 17 year olds do.

But you’re not 17, are you?

You’re forever 8.

And we forever miss you.

Love,

Mom

16th birthday: Sweet 16

Monday, November 8, 2021

Sweet 16

It's been 2,886 days since Sam died.

He was alive for 2,958 days.

Those two numbers are remarkably similar. We had him physically with us just about as long as we haven't had him.

Today is his 16th birthday.

Several of our family members are currently binge-watching The Vampire Diaries (judge away, friends). Vampires are so interesting - they can live for hundreds of years. Of course, the show doesn't spend too much time on the existential questions about what it means to live forever...and yet, some episodes do address that deep question. What does it mean to fall in love and know that you either have to bring that person into immortality with you, or watch them grow old and die? And then there's the coming-back-from-the-dead, which people do with remarkably frequency on the show. A whole story line was devoted to the number of people in a mysterious "other side" that wasn't quite death, and then they all came back. (Even the bad guys.) On the Vampire Diaries, dead is not dead. It feels...temporary. And so each time someone dies, the characters talk about "bringing them back" - and they really mean it. But coming back from the dead is never without consequences. Something is always taken or given in return. Something is always not quite right. Death is still a supreme and terrible force, even in a story where it can be magically defeated.

So many questions swirl in my mind, especially in the evenings when we're hopped up on a few episodes.

What would I have given to bring him back, even for a moment?
What would I do if life-eternal had been granted?
What would he be like if magic had healed him, brought him back, given us the happy ending we wanted?

And yet...he's not here. And we're not the same. And this is real.

For several years, we tried to do "what Sammy would have wanted" for his birthday. We watched his favorite movie and we ate his favorite foods.

But last year, and this year, we have tried to think about which of the current favorites that WE have as a family - which of THOSE experiences that we're currently living - which ones would speak to him. It's really hard to guess. To imagine. To magically place him into our world for a moment, even just a silly moment like "what should we have for dinner?"

2,886 days is a long time to be apart. He's unchanged. Frozen in time, as I said last year. We are not immortal, but we continue to grow and change and make new stories without him. And we miss him. All the time.

To make a donation in honor of Sammy's birthday, click here or here.

Sunday, November 8, 2020

Frozen

Today is Sam's birthday, and we've talked a lot about what he would have liked.

Would he still like McDonald's?
Would he still think dragons are cool?
What would a high school Sam sound like, act like, think like?
What would he think about politics, about food, about Minecraft?
What would he think about music, about math, about books?
What would he think about God?

We have no idea. None.

He is totally frozen in time, as we move forward through it.
Sometimes I make things up. I look at 15-year-olds and I close my eyes and I try to picture Sam in those situations, those stories, those ideas. But it's just make-believe.

I scroll through the old blog posts...and I realize that I keep wondering. I never stop wondering.
Will I ever stop wondering?

What would you be like?
I wish we had been able to find out.

To make a donation in honor of Sammy's birthday, click here or here.

Monday, August 17, 2020

It's the 18th, of course

These last few months have been strange.

For everyone. For the entire world. Everyone staying home, completely scared of a virus, washing their hands, wearing masks....it has also felt like deja vu. When Sam was in the hospital, each day felt something like this. A bubble, our own little world, trying to make normalcy amidst something totally out of whack. Our family talked about Sam a lot in the first few weeks of this strange quarantine, more than we usually do, remembering stories of how we kept ourselves entertained and how it felt to learn all the procedures to keep Sam safe.

I've always thought about the dates that are imprinted on my memory, my heart, my soul. I kept such careful track of everything, we documented each day, I always wondered if the dates would cease to hold power over me. Would I always feel a sense of dread around June 12? Would August 26 be an anniversary that we'd continue to remember? So far, those dates are a little less dreadful, but still pretty solidly a part of me.

And then came the plan to move into college. Yes, it's time for David to launch out of our nest and into the big wide world. He had a couple of options for move-in day, and he chose August 18. "Eighteen, mom! It's such a good number." Yes, David, it is. It is a good number.

And my heart was so full, because the calendar in my brain gave a little ding, a little reminder bell. August 18, 2013 was the date that Sam moved back into the hospital to begin the bone marrow transplant process. But I didn't remind David about the other August 18 move-in day. It was too much to ask of him, to tell him, to hold onto. It's too much remembering, even in these days that we remember so very much. It was too much sadness to put onto a joyous experience (even amidst a global pandemic - that's probably a whole other blog post!). The undercurrent is always there, but I don't need to bring it to the top.

This is different. It's completely different. We were vaulting into the unknown then, for sure, with uncertain results. We are vaulting into an unknown, yes, but it's not nearly as unknown. Along with thousands who have come before and thousands who are in it with him, we launch....

It's not the same. And I'm so glad.

But it's nice to know that Sam is with us every day, every moment, in our hearts.

First day - fifth and first grade

David was always Sam's favorite visitor

Moving in on August 18

Thursday, November 7, 2019

Because You Haven't Grown Up

Dear Sammy,

Did you know that every time Solly walks by your name on the memorial board at the synagogue, he adds a stone? Every so often, I have to go over and un-pile his stones so that other people can use them too. And then he just piles them up again. It's almost like a game we play. Except we don't really talk about it. I just know that he does it. Maybe now he knows that I do it too.

Your name is often on our lips. You'd think that after all this time, we might not talk about you regularly. But that's not true. We bring you up a lot. Sometimes it makes us cry. And sometimes it makes us laugh. Even though it's 2,155 days since we last saw you....

Solly feels like we're withholding information from him. "Just start at the beginning and tell me everything," he said tonight. But I don't even know how to start to tell him about you, to breathe life into the stories that we all lived....how do I explain to him that there are just so many moments that I can't explain - the same moments that every parent holds onto - the moments when it was just quiet, and we sat together, the moments when we laughed, the silly and the sad, the hard and the joyous....how do I explain each moment that made up your short 8 years? I just can't. But I try. We try each day to share a Sammy story with him...because he wants to know you. He will turn 9 this year. And you will be forever his big brother who is now younger than he is. It's hard to wrap his brain around. It's hard to wrap mine around too. Where there once were four, there are now three. It's math, but it hurts my heart.

We'd be registering you for high school. You'd have tagged along on college visits. You'd be planning your 8th grade trip to Israel (and I'd be worrying about sending you off, and checking to see if the doctors had any concerns, and everyone would just be telling me to stop hovering....and I would remind them that I have earned the right to hover over you).

We went out for dinner to your favorite Indian restaurant, like we do every year. I said, "maybe if Sammy was here, he'd want something else for his birthday." But since you haven't grown up, we can't know. So we went for Indian food. Because you haven't grown up.

You haven't grown up. But we're still here.
We miss you every minute of every day.
Love,
Mom

To make a donation in honor of Sammy's birthday, go here: https://www.stbaldricks.org/participants/mypage/1040096/2020 (Yael will be shaving her head at her Bat Mitzvah, so we're getting a head (!) start.)

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