People won't always think of me as the dad whose child died. They think of me that way now, maybe. But that won't last forever. And then one day when they don't, I'll wonder, Why aren't they thinking of me that way anymore?
We were looking for an old cell phone charger the other day, and my oldest son found one of Henry's tracheostomy tubes. This custom-made, state-of-the-art thing, exactly made for his little throat. It was like a little magician had poofed into the room. I thought, Look at that thing that tortured us, tortured him, but also helped him breathe. It was a heavy moment. And I loved it.
People won't always think of me as the dad whose child died. They think of me that way now, maybe. But that won't last forever. And then one day when they don't, I'll wonder, Why aren't they thinking of me that way anymore?
We were looking for an old cell phone charger the other day, and my oldest son found one of Henry's tracheostomy tubes. This custom-made, state-of-the-art thing, exactly made for his little throat. It was like a little magician had poofed into the room. I thought, Look at that thing that tortured us, tortured him, but also helped him breathe. It was a heavy moment. And I loved it. |
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On the plus side, this may enable the Justice Department to move up the Jan. 6 food chain. |
| How am I just learning about the hum? |
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Gift giving season is in full swing, and while that means you'll hopefully receive a few good presents yourself, it also means you can no longer ignore the undeniable truth that you have to start holiday shopping. Not sure where to start? Well you're in luck, because here at Esquire, we are gift-giving pros. |
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There's a CB2 sofa, a Casper mattress, and even a customizable pillow all on discount. |
| The Americans beat Iran to book a place in the World Cup knockout rounds. Can they give the mighty Dutch a game in the Round of 16? |
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"Talk dirty to me," Karen whispered, her brown eyes on the bar table between us. Aside from being articulate, eccentric, and funny, she was a stone knockout; for the last month, I'd been scrambling just to feel worthy. Now she'd upped the ante. "Come on," she repeated with a grin. "Say something dirty." Ooh, I said to myself, this is gonna be great. I've never done it, but I bet I'm good at it. I quickly thought through some naughty openers—discarded one as crassly vulgar, tried on another, almost blurted out something smarmy. And still she was waiting—holding my hand, smiling. |
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