100 Words, 1,000 Emotions

Two years ago this week, my teenage son had cranial surgery. The search for the cause of the various neurological problems that caused considerable distress for him, his family, and his friends and teachers during his high school years had been long and circuitous, but we were fortunate that a diagnosis was made before the Chiari Malformation (a congenital birth defect) advanced to a more serious stage. It all came as quite a shock to us and forced him to delay the start of his university studies.

During his recovery, I wanted to capture the experience of the day of the surgery, which was probably the most distressing 3 hours of my life as a parent. I fumbled around for a bit. Then one Sunday while reading the “Life is Short, Autobiography as Haiku” feature in the Washington Post Arts and Style section, I decided to try my hand at a submission. The purpose of the feature, according to the Post, is to “Find a way to give insight into your life in under 100 words.”

I had never submitted anything to a newspaper or magazine before, and accordingly had very low expectations. The week I submitted my piece, the feature was discontinued. Until this week, I had lost track of the original piece. Reflecting recently on this challenging experience, I set about trying to track down the original submission. I'm glad I found it. It helps me remember, and every time I read it I take away new insights.

Since his consult with the neurosurgeon, my 17-year-old rarely mentioned the impending operation. When colleagues asked how he was doing, I replied, “Just what other teenagers are doing: reading Potter and hanging out with friends.” Moments before the surgery, he whispered, “I’m nervous.” My wife asked him why; he turned towards her and asserted, “Mom, let me have my fear.” Then he smiled. We all laughed. When he squeezed her hand as the anesthesia flowed, her eyes welled as did mine, and we watched the OR staff wheel him down the hall, by then already oblivious to everything around him.