times, as I engaged in my own form ofdenial, trying to intellectualize the entire situation. I used reasoning to hide from the truth, a tried and true defense mechanism that allowed me to separate myself from everything. I tried to deal with Logan as a medical issue, using ideation, or created new ideas drawn from my scientific knowledge to justify my actions. But it didn’t work, any more than Jaymee’s efforts did.
Jaymee recognized what I was doing, and after some time she came to me and told me that I needed help. As soon as I heard her say it, I knew that it was true. I went to therapy; I called up a doctor I had seen after my initial diagnosis and made an appointment. I showed up, settled in, and as soon as she asked me what was wrong, I started crying. For 45 minutes, I did not say a word; all I did was cry. She simply sat there and let me have it out; what else could she do? With maybe five minutes left in the session, I explained my reasons for being there.
She smiled. “The next time you feel like you need to let it out, just call me. I am here, David.” And that was it. I felt better and refreshed, but in light of my emotional episode I became convinced that Jaymee needed to cry, as well.
“I can’t.” Her answer was short and direct. I had just asked when the last time was that she’d had a good cry.
“You can’t? Why not?” I was curious; everyone
can
cry, after all. The better question was, why
wasn’t
she?
“If I start, I might not stop. I have to be here for you, Logan, and Brennan. If I allow it, I’m afraid that there will be nothing left of me.” I understood her logic, but it didn’t stop me from becoming more concerned.
“Babe, I can go into my office any night you wish, and you can be alone to cry for as long as you want,” I offered. She repliedby explaining that it’s better for people cry together, if at all. I finally gave up on the idea of imposing coping methods on her. Jaymee
was
coping; it was just different from what I was doing.
Watching as your child becomes severely ill is never an easy thing to endure. Jaymee managed it by committing to drawing us all closer, and relying on an inner strength that amazes me still.
The day that Logan was diagnosed, Jaymee and I discussed everything from divorce to raising Brennan as an only child. Looking back now, I’m grateful for how special the person I chose to spend the rest of my life with truly is. In so many ways, Jaymee made this entire ordeal a little easier. She’s not the type of girl who gets giddy and fusses over things. She is highly straightforward and serious. And when she starts to work, get out of her way; she demands complete control and will stop at nothing to maximize her success. In those early days, when the both of us were more emotional than ever before, it was never overblown. While there was stress, it was never to the point of breaking either of us down. We were then and are now connected through mutually beneficial understandings. My weaknesses are compensated by her strengths. Her inabilities are accounted for by my capabilities. Although at times unconventional, I still believe that we are where we are because of love, trust, respect, and a lot of hard work. My marriage constitutes the hardest work either of us has ever done, and yet we manage to do it every day. It’s a challenge to find balance and maintain control, but while it’s never exactly “easy,” it is also never a burden. When we work, we reap rewards. For me, the love of my wife and the value she adds to my life is enough benefit to make me look forward to working more tomorrow.
Chapter 8
BRENNY
B EING A FATHER has been without a doubt the most significant aspect of my life. Falling in love with Jaymee and working to build a life with her was the result of a conscious decision. I saw what was best for me and I made the choice to love her. But being a dad to Logan and Brennan required no such choice; it was automatic. The day I