Born of a mother’s promise to her son
Excerpt from book jacket. August 1996: A nurse’s aide was in Dawson’s room when I arrived. She smiled at me, as she had done many times before, but this time there was a seriousness in her expression that I had not seen before. She gazed soulfully at him and, though she had never spoken to me before beyond a quiet “good morning,” this day she did. She looked at me and said, “Are you his wife?
Despite my distress, I could not help but smile momentarily and I answered somewhat proudly, “No, I am his mother.” Far beyond having received a compliment, what meant more to me was that I had been given the chance to tell her who I was. Certainly, it was not necessary this woman know all my feelings, yet I felt surprisingly grateful I had been given the opportunity to express to her the full extent of my heartache, and I had said it all in four simple words, “I am his mother.”
I will never forget that day in the hospital when Dawson said, “Mom, I want everyone to know my story. I know it’s going to help other people.”
“It will, Dawson,” I had responded without hesitation. “I know it will.” And, as his mother, not as an author, I knew I would do all I could to help fulfill his noble wish.
Telling his story is my gift to Dawson. Having this particular story to share is every bit as much his gift to me. It is our gift to all who read it.
