Hauk offers a piercing memoir recounting his young son’s terminal illness.
The author’s son, Thomas, was diagnosed with Addison’s disease at age 12. Addison’s, an autoimmune disease that causes the adrenal glands to atrophy, affects the production of cortisol and hormones that control metabolism and is difficult to control. On July 8, 2002, 10 days shy of his 16th birthday, Thomas went into cardiac arrest. He was revived but remained unresponsive. The removal of the ventilator two days after his 16th birthday brought cautious optimism, but two days later he took a turn for the worse. Consecutive EEGs evidenced declining brain activity, and his parents realized that “Thomas as we knew him will never reappear in this life. The damage to the areas of the brain that control memory, motor skills, and language is simply too great, and irreversible.” They made the wrenching decision to remove his feeding tube and move him to hospice; Thomas died on August 21, 2002. Hauk has written a profound memoir chronicling his son’s all-too-brief life and the weeks that Thomas lay in a coma. Excerpts from journals and emails the author wrote and received during those agonizing weeks effectively portray his anguish and the community that evolved to support him. A man of faith with degrees in English literature, divinity, and Christian ethics, Hauk writes eloquently of his journey through deep loss and grief. He reveals to readers the unanswerable questions he faced: Recalling the days after the first cardiac arrest, he writes, “I have not been able to say just where that young man’s spirit has gone for now”; after Thomas’ death, he wondered, “what if the hope that Thomas now is at rest, at peace, is really only an empty hope?” The author found solace in “acknowledging that what is most necessary is not so much healing by the Spirit, with a capital S, as healing of our own spirits.” By sharing Thomas’ life and his own journey, Hauk offers reassurance to other bereaved people that they are not alone.
A moving consolation for those who are traveling “the foggy terrain” of loss and grief.