Prologue to Memoir September 2025

Prologue

I was in the prime of my life, serving as the pastor of a church in the Old Town neighborhood of Chicago. Our daughter, Catherine, finished her psychology degree at the University of Denver in 1998 and worked in a therapeutic setting for teens in Colorado. She loved travel and her independence. As a young woman, I encouraged her strength even when we were at odds because the world is challenging for women. I wanted her to be self-confident and know she could do anything. She planned to return to Chicago for her doctoral work at the Chicago School for Professional Psychology.

Our son Daniel was three years younger, athletic, musical, and easygoing. As a child, he was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, which foreshadowed a depression he worked to manage. As he approached high school, he needed a different school setting. A therapeutic setting in a Western state saved him. His depression was managed as he worked with a therapist who gave him a fresh start. He finished there in the spring of 1997, completing his last high school credits locally. He dreamed of a hiking trip.

Bill, my husband, and I were separated. He lived in an apartment near his work, and Daniel and I were in our home. I wanted this continuity for Daniel, and the separation made our home more peaceful. Daniel spent time with his dad while I was in London for a four-week exchange pulpit that summer. Catherine joined me at the end of the exchange for a trip to Paris before we returned home.

Daniel spoke about a hiking trip to California for several months. He finally convinced his dad and me. We decided to support his dream and see if that would give him the confidence to move forward. We anticipated his being gone for a few weeks. He seemed eager to prove himself, and supporting his decision would help us help him prepare. I spent a great deal of time second-guessing myself about this choice after his death. I have come to realize and accept that accidents occur, no matter how much one prepares. He was fulfilling his own dream. I hold on to that.

Losing a child is unlike any other loss. It is brutal and gut-wrenching to have this loss of the child’s future. Life is never the same.  Initially, I needed a reason to live. I found that in my daughter and my vocation as a pastor, even as I wrestled with my faith.

Since that loss, when something terrible happens, I say, “It’s not the worst thing to happen to me.”

It is different for every parent, but it is always devastating. This is my story.

Revised November 2025