Connected

We are all connected. On March 7 of this year, a week after my son Andy died in a motorcycle accident in Bokeo Province in Laos, there was a memorial service. Andy was loved by many and, not surprisingly, the Old Town Hall of Bedford, MA was overflowing with family and friends of Andy, of Chip (my younger son), of Disty (my wife), and of me. I don't remember everything about that day, but what stands out is that I floated on a river of love. Each person who came to hug me and whom I hung onto like a life raft was connected through their own loss: fathers, mothers, siblings, children, friends, whomever. And each whispered a story that drew me up and reminded me of how important it is, even in the face of inevitable loss, to love. And as I bobbed in the fresh, dark and turbid river of loss—nauseous, out-of-body, and barely conscious, I could feel the rivers of each of our lives rushing together, tributaries in what I've learned is life's greatest river. Without our family and friends, we surely would have gone under. And now we are connected like never before.

This November 12, Chip, Disty, and I go to Laos to honor Andy. We join Sukhapaab: Disty teaching medicine, Chip teaching English, and I publishing medical books and blogging—each of us trying to connect with our lost beloved brother and son through the people he loved and the place he intended to invest with his life, Laos.