There are simply no words for how much I love my kids. I love them because they aren’t just my kids. They are our kids, a lasting reflection of the love Maureen and I shared. Although her life was cut short by metastatic breast cancer on 10.21.2014, our love was not.
We stumbled around a lot in the early days of our grief, but one thing became quite clear as the fog started to settle. Maureen lived and loved each and every day until her passing after her diagnosis in late 2003. The kids and I knew that she would want the same of us. None of us were going to be the first to heaven and have to answer her question, ‘so what have you been up to since I left?”
St. Andrew’s Episcopal School has a beautiful tradition senior year, the homily, or offering. On the 2 anniversary of Maureen’s passing, our son, Taylor Thompson, stepped to the podium in the same Upper School chapel where we held Maureen’s celebration of life and delivered a moving testimony to love. To his mom. To legacies. To making a difference.
His sister, Kyla, took to the same podium a week ago Monday. On 10.21.2019. The 5 year anniversary. She made her dad proud. She made her dad cry. ❤️?❤️ As a senior, we’ve been working on college applications. Last week, we visited TCU in Ft. Worth after a visit to Susan G. Komen the day before. For Taylor, his #onething has been Habitat for Humanity. For Kyla, her #onething has been breast cancer and #pinkkids, making sure the children of the 1 in 8 with breast cancer don’t feel alone. Sitting at Komen HQ and walking the campus at TCU, I smiled. Kyla will always be my “little girl,” but I also saw a beautiful woman while in Dallas and Ft. Worth, a woman in whom her mom would be so proud.
As Kyla reflected on a poem from Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein’s at the end of her homily, “And so today, rather than being a day of sadness, it is a day I rejoice. I rejoice because I know I had a mom that loved me. I rejoice because I had an amazing mom with whom I walked the sidewalk of life for a short time. I rejoice because she taught me how to walk my own sidewalk and my sidewalk begins today. Amen.” It does indeed Kyla, and it is paved with love. Your dad’s. And your mom’s.