I’m so moved by this. Like everyone else said, your writing is beautiful, raw, honest. I remember something that my friend who worked in Cincinnati Children’s hospital as a music therapist used to say, that in families with a child with a disability, the divorce rate was something like 80 or 90 percent, if I remember right. You obviously are much stronger than most people in a similar situation and you have so much love and wisdom and self-awareness and kindness in your writing and obviously in your life. Your posts inspire and move me, always. Thank you thank you for sharing yourself, and your talent. Reading you is priceless and precious.
Incredibly honest & raw write. I live with men who are susceptible to fainting. It's not a flaw, it's just who they are. Your stories about Em are always heart-wrenching and heart-lifting.
Wowzers Lyle. Thanks for sharing that tough moment with us. Those unexpected releases of emotion can be startling. What a gift that your wife could be by your side through it. Powerful. 🙏
My sister got married a month ago. It was a big Indian wedding. The wedding was jam-packed with festive events where friends and family were having fun and laughing. I cannot even imagine the extent of fatigue my sister and her husband must be feeling throughout the whole thing: I was maxed out on the second day and I wasn't even the main character.
My sister would burst into bouts of laughter immediately followed by tears rolling down her cheeks, it was something I had only seen in films before. She later told me that it was not only the tiredness and the fact that everything was overwhelming, but there was some part of her that was grieving too. Even though, logistically, her life is essentially the same to how it was prior to her marriage, it was still a fundamental and a permanent shift.
Of course, it is not like a vasectomy, but your story made me remember my sister's random bouts of grief during an otherwise very festive part of our lives. Thanks for sharing it!
...wow...peace and love to you and your family...i have many thoughts about burnt balls, but most of all am awestruck and thankful you shared so many vulnerable moments with us...with love and appreciation for so much humanity in your journey...blessings...
Stunning work. I too have a predisposition to faint after any procedure (no matter how minor)--I really resonate with your depiction and appreciate your vulnerability
Dear Lyle, yes like everyone else who has read this I can only agree with their words. The only thing I can add is that Em is so fortunate in having such terrific parents. You and Allison are so loving and strong in your parenting, your devotion to En and each other is a beautiful thing.
I also relate to your fainting. It has happened to me many many times. The last was when I was with my daughter while we were back in St Louis. We were waiting for her to receive a new liver. She has an auto immune disease PSC for short. Her disease caused her liver to become scoliosis and the wait for a new one in California was very long so her doctor advised us to go back to Barnes Jewish Hospital. I fainted in Whole Foods while doing our grocery shopping. I knew I would be fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital. The worst thing is the embarrassment I felt, even though it wasn’t something I could control. Thank goodness our apartment was just across the street from the market so I didn’t have far to go to escape.
About the fainting: I almost always am on the verge of tears upon coming to, like you said because of the confusion of missing a part of your timeline. But at the same time I can also feel incredibly well-rested and 'reset'. It will forever be a weird experience.
Beautiful essay, Lyle. This captures all of life, I think: "I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wish things turned out differently for Em and my family. Of course, I wish she were able to eat and walk and talk, with a younger sibling learning how to walk now too—mostly for her sake, not mine. And yet, I can’t change what happened. I have to accept it and be ready for the grief to hit at random, unexpected times. Like it always does."
Yes. We want A and life gives us B, or F, or Z. Acceptance is the answer, but of course acceptance is not easy by any measure.
Man, this one hit me. I'm planning on getting it done, and have wondered how I would feel about not being able to have kids anymore, even though I definitely don't want to start over. Thanks for sharing, the emotional repercussions are not something I've ever heard another man discuss.
Late to this conversation, Lyle, but wanted to thank you for sharing this. It reminds me of a line from Brian Doyle's excellent essay "Joyas Voladoras":
"You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman’s second glance, a child’s apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words I have something to tell you, a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother’s papery ancient hand in the thicket of your hair, the memory of your father’s voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children."
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. As a fellow fainter, I know that heightened emotions are the last straw. You never had a chance. But on the plus side, cookies!
I’m so moved by this. Like everyone else said, your writing is beautiful, raw, honest. I remember something that my friend who worked in Cincinnati Children’s hospital as a music therapist used to say, that in families with a child with a disability, the divorce rate was something like 80 or 90 percent, if I remember right. You obviously are much stronger than most people in a similar situation and you have so much love and wisdom and self-awareness and kindness in your writing and obviously in your life. Your posts inspire and move me, always. Thank you thank you for sharing yourself, and your talent. Reading you is priceless and precious.
Incredibly honest & raw write. I live with men who are susceptible to fainting. It's not a flaw, it's just who they are. Your stories about Em are always heart-wrenching and heart-lifting.
Wowzers Lyle. Thanks for sharing that tough moment with us. Those unexpected releases of emotion can be startling. What a gift that your wife could be by your side through it. Powerful. 🙏
This reminded me of some circumstances in my own past.
And of an old adage: "We don't know how dizzy we are until we stop spinning."
My sister got married a month ago. It was a big Indian wedding. The wedding was jam-packed with festive events where friends and family were having fun and laughing. I cannot even imagine the extent of fatigue my sister and her husband must be feeling throughout the whole thing: I was maxed out on the second day and I wasn't even the main character.
My sister would burst into bouts of laughter immediately followed by tears rolling down her cheeks, it was something I had only seen in films before. She later told me that it was not only the tiredness and the fact that everything was overwhelming, but there was some part of her that was grieving too. Even though, logistically, her life is essentially the same to how it was prior to her marriage, it was still a fundamental and a permanent shift.
Of course, it is not like a vasectomy, but your story made me remember my sister's random bouts of grief during an otherwise very festive part of our lives. Thanks for sharing it!
...wow...peace and love to you and your family...i have many thoughts about burnt balls, but most of all am awestruck and thankful you shared so many vulnerable moments with us...with love and appreciation for so much humanity in your journey...blessings...
Stunning work. I too have a predisposition to faint after any procedure (no matter how minor)--I really resonate with your depiction and appreciate your vulnerability
Wow! Lyle you’re amazing! That was a powerful story you shared. Thank you! Love Aunt Lina 💕
Dear Lyle, yes like everyone else who has read this I can only agree with their words. The only thing I can add is that Em is so fortunate in having such terrific parents. You and Allison are so loving and strong in your parenting, your devotion to En and each other is a beautiful thing.
I also relate to your fainting. It has happened to me many many times. The last was when I was with my daughter while we were back in St Louis. We were waiting for her to receive a new liver. She has an auto immune disease PSC for short. Her disease caused her liver to become scoliosis and the wait for a new one in California was very long so her doctor advised us to go back to Barnes Jewish Hospital. I fainted in Whole Foods while doing our grocery shopping. I knew I would be fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital. The worst thing is the embarrassment I felt, even though it wasn’t something I could control. Thank goodness our apartment was just across the street from the market so I didn’t have far to go to escape.
Give Em, Sarah, and Allison my love.
Beautiful piece.
About the fainting: I almost always am on the verge of tears upon coming to, like you said because of the confusion of missing a part of your timeline. But at the same time I can also feel incredibly well-rested and 'reset'. It will forever be a weird experience.
Beautiful essay, Lyle. This captures all of life, I think: "I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I wish things turned out differently for Em and my family. Of course, I wish she were able to eat and walk and talk, with a younger sibling learning how to walk now too—mostly for her sake, not mine. And yet, I can’t change what happened. I have to accept it and be ready for the grief to hit at random, unexpected times. Like it always does."
Yes. We want A and life gives us B, or F, or Z. Acceptance is the answer, but of course acceptance is not easy by any measure.
Michael Mohr
"Sincere American Writing"
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
Man, this one hit me. I'm planning on getting it done, and have wondered how I would feel about not being able to have kids anymore, even though I definitely don't want to start over. Thanks for sharing, the emotional repercussions are not something I've ever heard another man discuss.
Late to this conversation, Lyle, but wanted to thank you for sharing this. It reminds me of a line from Brian Doyle's excellent essay "Joyas Voladoras":
"You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman’s second glance, a child’s apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words I have something to tell you, a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother’s papery ancient hand in the thicket of your hair, the memory of your father’s voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children."
Worth reading in full: https://theamericanscholar.org/joyas-volardores/
Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. As a fellow fainter, I know that heightened emotions are the last straw. You never had a chance. But on the plus side, cookies!
I read that one to Tiff, I laughed then cried too, wow
Thank you for sharing this, Lyle