We Own the Sky(88)

Thank you so much for your message, naws09.

I’ve  been  trying  to  follow  your  advice  and  stay  busy  and  I  really  think it’s helping. Just having a project to do each day, even if it’s organizing a cupboard or something.

I know you’re right about the Newly Diagnosed thing. I would love to be

able  to  do  that,  to  help  people  in  that  way,  but  I’m  not  sure  I  can.  I  just don’t  think  I  have  enough  to  give.  Also,  given  that  I  took  my  son  to  Dr.

Sladkovsky’s, I’m not exactly the right person to advise people.

How are you, by the way? I always talk about myself but I don’t know

anything about you...

Subject: Re: Re:

Sent: Fri May 20, 2017 8:50 pm

From: naws09

Recipient: Rob

Of  course  you’re  the  right  person  to  help  people  on  Newly  Diagnosed.

You’ve  gone  through  all  of  this,  you’ve  lived  it.  You  know  how  it  feels better than anyone.

You  asked  how  I  was,  well,  if  you  must  know,  I  have  been  going through a bad patch recently. Every little thing seems to be setting me off.

I  was  watching  one  of  those  24  hours  in  Casualty  documentaries  and there  was  this  mother  whose  son  was  hit  by  a  car  and  she  was  so distraught and beside herself and I had this horrible feeling of guilt that I was never like that, was never like that mother.

I’m sure there was more I could have done to make it easier on Lucy,

to help her enjoy her last few months. Sometimes I am paralyzed by fear

that  she  knew:  that  she  knew  that  she  was  dying  and  she  was  scared and  I  wasn’t  able  to  take  that  fear  away.  Some  days  are  worse  than others, but I feel like I let her down.

I suppose deep down, I feel like it’s my fault—that I deserve it and what happened  to  my  daughter  must  have  been  because  of  something  I  did.

That’s probably just me being stupid, but it’s how I feel. Thanks for asking though...

Subject: Re: Re:

Sent: Fri May 20, 2017 10:23 pm

From: Rob

Recipient: naws09

Well,  of  course  it’s  you  being  stupid.  :)  Of  course  of  course  of  course  it wasn’t  your  fault  and  you  should  never  torture  yourself  like  that.  The problem is, though: I can say that, I can advise that, because objectively, as  you  and  I  both  know,  that’s  sound  advice.  But  knowing  it’s  a  bullshit feeling still doesn’t stop me from feeling the same sometimes, especially in those dark times, when it’s so hard to see the light, to even imagine the light.  So  you’re  wrong  to  feel  like  that,  but  I  understand  you  feeling  like that, if that makes sense. (And, I know I don’t know you, but I’m sure you were a wonderful mother.) Subject: Re: Re: Sent: Fri May 20, 2017 11:45 pm

From: naws09

Recipient: Rob

Thank you. You see, this is what I’m talking about. You’re good with the advice. You should definitely help out on Newly Diagnosed. Really. :) I wanted to ask you, by the way, and please don’t take this the wrong

way, but why did you go to Dr. Sladkovsky? There are so many parents

on  Newly  Diagnosed  going  down  these  awful  paths  of  alternative

treatments  (much  worse  than  Dr.  Sladkovsky)  and  I  would  like  to  help them,  dissuade  them,  but  I  never  really  know  what  to  say.  Well,  it’s  late now. Good night.

I sit upstairs in my little office drinking coffee. I have been trying to work today, but I cannot stop thinking about Anna. I still have not heard from her. I did write to her again in more detail, apologizing and begging for her forgiveness. I do not expect a response. I know I deserve nothing from her.

I long for her, though, and I think a part of me was always longing for her. The Anna who, with such glee, made me go to the all-night  Star Wars marathon at the Ritzy. The Anna who fell asleep in my lap on Brighton beach. And then the time we played squash. Those wonderful Bobby Charlton shorts. The look on her face when the animals closed in.

I could watch Anna for hours, the minuscule changes she could make to the expressions on her face. How she would very slightly stick out her lower lip when she was contemplating something, a cartoon version of  The Thinker. Or how her eyes would dart to the ground after she said something she was not sure of—a moment of modesty, insecurity—and then she would look up again and continue, somehow fortified by the slight movement of her head.