The TruthPublished 9 years, 1 month past
We asked Rebecca to sit with us on the half-couch situated against the short wall of the child psychologist’s small office. She clambered up into Kat’s lap, facing toward me, looking at me sidelong with her unique mixture of shyness and impishness. I was already having trouble drawing my breath, arrested by her affection for and trust in us, and pierced by the knowledge of what we were about to do to her.
“Honey, we want to talk to you about something.”
Her eyes dropped, her face melting to something wary and withdrawn. She knows, I thought. She knows, and we have to say it anyway.
“Remember the bad rock?” No expression on her now as she began to curl up, slowly, so slowly. “The tumor in your head that the doctors can’t take out? And you know how Mommy and Daddy have been looking for special medicine to make the bad rock go away?”
We waited for a nod, some signal that she understood. After a moment, her eyes darted to the side as if looking for escape routes.
“We haven’t been able to find special medicine, sweetie. We’re still looking, but we might not be able to find any.” Tears were streaming down Kat’s face. Down my face. I could barely see Rebecca’s face, she had lowered her head so far as she hunched forward, away from Kat, into the space between her parents.
In a small, choked voice: “Do you understand, honey?”
Her head nodded fractionally, spasmodically. And then her jaw started to quiver. Silent. Quivering more and more and her face twisting in anguish and then she started to wail. She collapsed backward into her mother’s embrace, still curled into a ball, crying desolately, hopelessly. Keening.
All three of us, sobbing and clinging to each other.
She had known ever since the tumors returned. She had expressed her fear in a few whispers, soothed by our reassurances that we were still looking for special medicine, and now she knew we were telling her she was going to die. She knew, and was terrified, curving her small body into a ball surrounding her pain as we tried to make a shield of our arms, futilely trying to protect her when the killer and the pain were already inside the shield. Inside her, where nobody could get it out. So our arms and bodies instead became a blanket inside which she could mourn her own life and try to cope with her terror of going away forever.
We wept what seemed like an endless ocean of suffering, but after a time, it started to ebb. We could speak again, barely, and thought she could hear us when we did. We had to ask her, even though we knew. Even though I would given much to never say or even hear what was coming next.
“Are you scared, Rebecca?”
A nod through tears, her jaw quivering again.
“Can you tell us what you’re scared of?”
She wept again, unable or unwilling to say the words. Kat and I choking on our pain and her pain as Rebecca sobbed with renewed terror, clinging to Kat and squeezing my hand in hers.
We asked her again, as gently as we could through our anguish. And again, later, when we had all recovered enough. And again.
Finally: “Baby, can you whisper it to one of us?”
She nodded, miserably.
“Who do you want to whisper it to?”
She pointed at Kat. Shifted her head up and around. Whispered, her voice so tiny and full of pain and fear and breaking into another wail: “Of dying.”
I will never know how long we wept with her. What we said to try to soothe her pain even a tiny bit. How we tried to comfort and protect her. I will always remember how utterly helpless and wounded and shattered I felt, the sick ache in the center of my chest.
Eventually the tears came to an end, as all things must. She hadn’t moved from her place, curled up against Kat, still holding one of my hands. Her face was clouded and stormy with the echoes of her tears, but there was some measure of calm. It let Kat and me come to the same place, quiet and still in the shadow of all our grief. We asked if she had any questions; she shook her head. We told her we loved her. She whispered, almost but not quite crying again, “I love you too.” We kissed her, almost but not quite crying again.
And then it was time to tell her sister.
This is beautifully written and so incredibly heartbreaking. I’m so, so sorry. You and your family are in my thoughts.
Eric, may God and his angels provide Rebecca and your family all the blessings and hope through this journey. Rebecca and your family are in my prayers.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you and your family, or find myself trying to bargain with the supernatural for Rebecca’s life.
As a parent, this has been one of the hardest things to be a spectator to. I can’t believe how strong and tender you and your wife have been for your daughter. She is incredibly lucky to have such dedicated, loving parents who will tell her the truth, and won’t stop fighting for her.
Take care, and know that should your family ever need anything, you’ve got a lot of strangers who will be there to do whatever they can.
Eric, I’m sitting in my hotel lobby in Seattle. I came to An Event Apart to one day become the professional you are, and I’m getting ready to leave, hoping to one day become the father you are. This is heart-breaking and beautiful. By being honest with Rebecca, you’ve lifted some of her burden, and by sharing your own fear, have shown her she will not be alone.
Thinking of you and your family.
Ohhhhh… Eric :-( I don’t even know how you were able to write that. I’m crying even as I post this comment. I am so so sorry for all of you. Rebecca has the best parents any little girl could ever have, that is for sure. Don’t ever doubt that. I don’t know what else to say – my heart just breaks for all of you, and I still pray for a miracle.
I am so sorry you ever had to have that conversation, at the moment I am dealing with the lost of a love one but even with all my pain, I know I can’t compare to yours at the moment, no one should have to loss a child this way. I am so sorry, I still hope regardless of it all, and if the goodbye is what is coming, then I hope for you and your family to have strength to endure.
May God bless you all at this time of challenge, suffering and love.
I am so, so sorry Eric. For Rebecca, for you and your family. I wish you and no other families had to go through this. You’re all in my thoughts.
You did it right x. I wish you all the strength and acceptance you will need. Much much love!
(a friend of a friend, who had this conversation with his wife 2 years ago)
How you manage to put this horror into words I will never understand. It hurts reading it and yet I do as if my empathy and constantly thinking of you all can somehow heal. I keep wishing it does.
Eric and Kathryn, if you sense silence at all from your friends please be assured we are here for you, it’s just we may be lost for words as how to express our sympathy. As a father myself I can hardly bear to imagine how you might be feeling as a family. Stay strong. Lean on your friends. Don’t go it alone. Love.
Eric, I am so very sorry - Robert's talk
[…] Now they have had to tell Rebecca about the current state, outlined in the excruciating post The Truth. […]
^ What Richard just said. I have been following what’s happened from the moment you first found out and have never really known what to write, feeling that nothing I could say would come out right or do anything practical to help. I will never know how you managed to write this entry so well. It was heartbreaking to read. For all the people who have commented, there are no doubt countless others who have remained silent because they didn’t know what to say yet are thinking about you all the same.
You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I’ve heard of you and I saw your post. And I truly admire what you are writing down.
I just can’t find the words to say what I want to say.
Just all the best and all the strength to you, your family and everybody else experiencing the same kind of horrors.
All the best,
Whatever your little girl will or will not have during the rest of her life, she will have the faith and trust in you and your wife, which you have acquired by your honesty and love for her. This painful truth, now out and in the open, is less frightening for her than ignorance. You have shown true courage in the face of this awful situation.
sending biggest hugs, deepest love, strongest wishful thinking, and keeping my anguish as far from you as possible – you’ve been dealt enough for a lifetime
Praying for the whole family, peace, comfort, healing both spiritual and physical!
I am so sorry Eric. Keeping your entire family in my thoughts.
I wish there was something I could say that could help, but I feel helpless. Nothing I can say will help your brave daughter or make the cancer go away. Please just know that your and your family are in my thoughts. Stay strong.
Your books got me to where I am today, your wit, intelligence and passion for CSS and code helped provide me with a skill that I have utilised to provide sustainence for my own family for the last 8 years.
With every atom in my body, every thought in my mind, every emotion in my soul. Myself and my family send you thanks, positivity, love, peace and we hope and pray for a miraculous outcome for the Meyer family. I wish I had the answers mate… Much love x
As others have written, you and Rebecca stay on my mind. I’m awfully sorry.
Wishing your daughter, you and your family an avalanche of love, friendship, strength and courage to go through all of this.
Your family is so strong. I’ve been marveling at your sharing all of this pain and uncertainty during this. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I love you and hope that whatever happens, you’ll find some measure of comfort that you and your family have done everything you could, that Rebecca knows she is loved. I don’t pray anymore, but I pray that you can find some comfort.
I’m so, so sorry. I’m thankful, though, that you adopted her – how wonderful that she’s known love in this short life!
You are some of the strongest people I know. And I think you’re definitely the best parents I know. You’re an amazing family, and my heart aches for you. Sending hugs, happy thoughts and hopes for as long an OK period as is possible. Feels like at this point, hoping you all have as much “normal” time together as possible, is all there is <3
oh Eric… what a painful time, and what a beautifully written post, my hearts breaks for you all…
It is too sad, wrong and unfair—beyond words—that Rebecca has to deal with this… In the darkest time, she is fortunate to have you both as parents, giving her all the love and support you can. You are amazing – wishing you the strength to be there for her.
I wish there was something we all could do… anything to make this reality change… if only the combined love so many of us feel for you and your family could heal…
You are in my heart x
As a father, I can’t really start to express how heartbreaking this is to hear from anyone. I can only imagine what you guys, the whole family, is going through. Had seen my father die from bladder cancer, but this is much more painful.
This is so well written, describing Rebecca’s emotions with so much detail, warmth and sadness, that I know everyone of us is now feeling for you guys ..
My thoughts are with you .. strength!
And I weep again. For love, for loss, for comfort needed where none can be found.
My heart goes out to you. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain of it all for you or your daughter. I will keep all of you in my prayers.
Words can say so little in a time of sorrow like this, but please know that I’m thinking of you and yours.
Hello. I’m so so so sorry for this situation and suffering you are all going through. I’ve never met your beautiful family, but my heart is breaking for you all as I weep what I just read. I know Jen Finney (fb friends) and heard your daughters story. I wish there was more I could do to help, but you have all my prayers and well wishes. May whomever your God is, let Him hear all our prayers and pull a mircle for your baby girl. May you all find the comfort and support with Him and your loved ones. Wishing you all peace.
This is so heartbreaking. I am so, so sorry this is happening to your daughter and your family. I don’t need to wish for you and your wife to find the strength in your mind to carry on, as I know you will. If there’s anything I wish for, it’s that you find the peace inside your hearts to accept whatever needs to come next, so you can alleviate as much fear as possible for your daughter. Lots of love. Your family is in my thoughts. :(
Eric, how amazing it is that you have the words, the compassion, and the love to endure this time with your daughter and family. I cannot fathom what you must be going through. You are an incredible human being.
Oh, Eric, this is just so heartbreaking.
You and Kat are amazing parents. It takes such courage to face this head-on and help Rebecca get through it, and then you take it one step further and share your emotions with us.
I wish we could do more for all of you. Know that you and your family are in our hearts and minds, and if we can do anything to help, we are here for you.
Many years ago, I worked at a hospital. I was very young and I worked on what was basically a cancer floor. (My roommate worked at the same hospital but on the pediatric floor, so I knew her stories, too.) I’ve even got blog posts tucked away about this.
It was there that I learned that people eventually almost always know…even children. At some level they know, even if just enough to be terribly frightened of a heavy unknown. Being surrounded by those who refuse to talk about it leaves the child or adult in a bleak isolation caused by family and friends who don’t want to experience their own pain.
This is not what you chose. Instead, you chose to face the most excruciating conversation a human being can have, rescuing her from the worst aloneness on earth. It was incredibly brave. It’s like knives in all our chests just to read it. The pain you all went through to do this is unimaginable to nearly all of us. I want to wail with you. I will always admire your courage.
We’ve never met but we know people in common. I can’t say anything but send you such positive vibes of support and know that you’re truly being an amazing father in these moments with Rebecca. What a blessing for her to have you on her team.
Wishing you all the best during this awful, awful time.
I do not know you, you do not know me. But what I read here is the bravest thing to do and touched my heart deeply. It’s not hard to imagine that this is one of the toughest things to do as parent. I wish you and your family all the love, courage and strength of the world and I will pray that the “special medicine” will be found after all.
No one should have to experience what you and your family are living right now. This is heartbreaking, it takes such courage to face the truth. Rebecca is surrounded by loving, caring, amazing parents. May you enjoy each others’ presence for as long as possible. Thank you for your courage and strength. My thoughts are with you. Love.
I cried reading this on the train this morning and it’s hard to keep the tear back now, so I can’t imagine how hard it was for you to share this moment.
Like others have said above, you’re one of the people that I followed getting into this industry back in 2000. Your voice and generous sharing have helped so many, including me, find a career and get to know you a little bit. I’ve seen your family grow as mine has grown. And my heart breaks for all of you.
You are a loving and courageous father. No parents should have to be this strong or feel helpless but you are guiding your family toward healing – what ever the future holds.
Hugs and long-distance support to you and yours…
How my heart breaks for your family, Eric. I can’t even begin to understand how you, your wife, and Rebecca must feel right now—despite having 4 young children of my own. I can only offer our family’s love to yours, and heartfelt, sincere prayer.
May the days ahead be treasured and remembered indefinitely.
There is nothing anyone can say to make this better for your family. Just know that there are many, many people out there who’s thoughts and prayers are with you, Kat, and your children.
I’m wrecked. Be well, stay strong, so many friends are thinking of you.
My family’s thoughts are with you and your family, Eric.
Eric, I’m so sorry to hear about this. I’m praying for your daughter, you and the rest of your family.
I’m speechless — I can only say that my heart truly goes out to you and Rebecca and all of your family and loved ones. I can imagine *and* I can’t imagine being in the same situation with my daughter. I hope you continue to find tremendous strength. Thank you for sharing it here.
While we are only in the planning stages to parenthood, I cannot begin to think of how I’d be even able to speak, let alone face my own child and tell them this. I can only offer my prayers that your family is watched over and grace be given.
Thinking and hoping and praying for you and your family.
My thoughts & prayers are with Rebecca, Kat, you and Rebecca’s sister.
Your willingness to share and the eloquent manner in which you have demonstrates an inner strength that is both noble and heroic.
There is no greater sense of despair and helplessness for a parent in this situation.
I don’t know Rebecca… but I know of her. She is beautiful in every imaginable way.
I want to write more…. I just can’t. There is so much to say… but few will truly understand, thankfully.
Been reading your blog posts but never commented before, I feel like this time I cannot not tell you that even if I don’t know you, my thoughts have been with you & your family a lot in the last couple of months. I wish you all the luck in the world, and as Cameron beautifully said, hope these days ahead are the best of your life.
So sorry to hear what Rebecca and your family go through this.
I got teary-eyed when I read this and I can only imagine what you must be going through.
This hurts, i feel very sorry and moved. My thoughts are with you and your family, for all it’s worth.
We have a mutual friend, Amy, who messaged me and asked me to pray for you all, which I have been doing. I also added your need to my weekly Prayers for the Week post, and readers all over are praying for you and your family. I am so truly sorry that you are facing all of this, I have two friends that have lost children to childhood cancers, and it is very hard to come to terms with. May God grant His Peace, Comfort, Strength, and Love to all of you, as well as the miracle of healing, too!
I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through but your words communicate so much bravery and strength. Thinking of you and sending so much love.
Sending you and your family all of my prayers, love, hope, and strength.
I am so sorry and have no words. Your family is in our thoughts and prayers.
I keep trying to write something, and I keep throwing it away because it can’t summarize how I feel. I’m realizing now that it just isn’t possible to do so.
It breaks my heart to read what you’ve written and what you’re all going through. The words reach out and cut deep. Your bravery inspires.
Give everyone a hug from all of us who can’t, and here’s hoping you can enjoy every moment you have together moving forward.
My deepest sympathies for your family. Your courage to share this experience so openly is admirable and I hope it is helping you through it.
Eric, I cannot imagine the pain that you and your family are experiencing right now.
And after going through the horrible ordeal of explaining the situation to Rebecca, it must have been nearly as painful to relive it as you composed this astonishing blog post. Thank you so much for sharing Rebecca’s story with us.
You and Kat are so very brave and strong. Rebecca is lucky to have you as her parents.
My thoughts and prayers are with you all as you continue this unwanted journey.
The heartbreak is too much to bear. I am in awe of your strength. In awe of the life-force that exists within a 5-year-old child. Her wisdom. It’s other-wordly. I’m praying for a miracle. We all love you so so much. Anything we can do to ease the pain even a hair, please tell us.
This just popped up on my Twitter feed. I had no idea what I was in for reading this! I burst into tears. Wow, I have no words! Sending positive vibes your way!
There are no right words. I send strength, love and hope to you and your family. Stay strong.
I read this hours ago and I just can’t shake this despair. I’ve had to excuse myself to go cry in the bathroom several times. I’m a parent of 7, 4, and 2 year olds and just the thought of having this conversation is too much to bear. We don’t know each other, but I just want you to know that I am profoundly sorry this is happening. I am sorry for the days ahead and for what your family has been through so far. No one should have to shoulder this much pain, much less an innocent child. Please hug them all for me and know that you have lots of people out here thinking of you and yours.
We know death is coming for us all. However, it is so saddening to hear that it might happen at such a young age. Being a father myself, I can’t imagine the pain you are going through breaking this news to your daughter. I am praying for your entire family! Most importantly, I am praying that you put your hope and faith in Jesus Christ. Our mortal bodies may die, but our spirits live forever.
This made me cry. I’m so sorry to hear this and that you and yours have to go through this hell.
Sending love and strength.
I am crying too, for all of you. I am so, so sorry you all have to endure this. Even though I have not seen you and Kat since before the births of your beautiful children, I know that they belong to the most loving family. I think of you and Rebecca so often, and I know she is lucky to have such wonderful parents holding her hands….
I’m so sorry for you all. Best wishes from my family to yours.
Dear Eric and family,
As a single guy I don’t think I can even start to understand how you must be feeling. Still I sat here this morning reading your post with tears running down my cheeks.
I really don’t know what to say at the moment, so I can only tell you to enjoy every moment you still have left. Every walk in the park, every moment together, try to enjoy en cherish it.
Wishing you all the love and strength,
I read it and can’t stop but feeling so sad for you Eric, and your family. I know you for your work, and your aport to web development. As reading it, all I can think of is the only hope we all have. Jesus Christ is the only hope for this world. There is a whole new life after death. There is a heaven and a hell. Only those who believe in Jesus won’t fear of death. This life is short. Real life starts after death. May God bless you and your little girl.
Your daughter is one of the strongest people I know. I have no words. Sending you all the love and strength. <3
There are simply no right words. As a father of 2 and third coming soon, my heart is shattered. My thoughts are with your family and I wish for a miracle to happen.
How I wish we could help offload your pain. I’m so very sorry.
When I wrote my comment this morning, I think I was somewhere near 11/12, now at 69, its wonderful to see how many people are holding you and yours in their hearts today. I forgot to say I lit a candle for you in the hospital church in Antwerp. If this many people are responding, there are so many more who are thinking of you all. It won’t help the immediate pain, but I hope it will give you strength to go on in the remarkable way that you are. Love, from someone totally unknown to you, but still in my heart tonight.
Beautifully written and so so sad. I cried while reading this, then read, “The Evening,” and cried through that too. Of course, a child with cancer is one of the saddest things in the world, everybody knows that, but it’s one thing to know, and another thing to read something like this, which really made me realize just how horrible and unfair the world can be. Your daughter sounds like such a wonderful, sweet little girl and the fact that this is happening to her fills me with so much pain and anger and sadness. And even while reading it I felt some form of disbelief or denial, like of course the doctors will find a way to save her, how can we live in a world where a child can die?
I can’t imagine how hard this must be, and you and your family have every ounce of my love and best wishes.
Eric, your family’s courage and bravery through all of this, is extremely humbling and remarkable. Everyone reading your article is very privileged you wanted to share something so utterly personal with the rest of us. For you, Rebecca, Kat, and all of your family, I want you to enjoy eachother’s time as much as possible. Definitely in my thoughts and wish I could do more. Stay strong.
I am broken hearted. I can’t stop thinking about you and your family. I want you to know that you have a world of people you have never met or barely know who are hoping for a miracle, sending you as much positive energy as they can and who are devastated with you. Thank you for sharing this with us, I can’t imagine.
Eric, my thoughts are with you and your family. Know that you have the support of many people in the web community.
Kat and Eric,
You are so generous to share this journey with the rest of us. I remember the day that you brought Rebecca to meet me when she was just a tiny baby. I was touched by your willingness to share then and even more so now. Eric has brilliantly expressed the feelings that the rest of us experience in grief, but can not share. Thank you for that.
If good thoughts and prayers will help you on this dreadful part of your life, I am sure there are enough of us out here offering them up.
Most of all, you are exhibiting exceptional parenting skills. Your kids are most fortunate for that, no matter what else happens in their lives.
Hugs to all five of you.
I sit here trying to imagine the heartbreak you and your family are going through and I can’t. I envy your strength and the strength of your daughter. We all support you and are praying for your family to overcome your pain.
An ocean of sympathy for you and your family. May you all find transcendence .
The Worst Day Ever | jasoncrowther.com
[…] Eric’s Archived Thoughts: The Truth. […]
I am thinking of your family every day. I wish there were some way to help or easy the pain. Maybe just saying I care helps
A Bad Rock... | Aspects / Reference
[…] Eric Meyer is living through my worst nightmare. […]
Hi Eric. I don’t know what to say… But I hear you.
All my love, Eric. Your family’s strength is incredible, and I’m glad you have each other.
Tears | Joseph Scott
[…] can’t begin to imagine how hard it would be to tell your five year old child she isn’t going to survive cancer. My heart goes out to Eric Meyer and his […]
I’m so sorry. What an amazing girl and how lucky to be so loved. I will wish for a miracle.
Eric, I don’t know you or your family, I saw your blog via Asa’s sharing it. And now I’m sitting here with my heart cracked open feeling for your family. You are all going through the hardest thing anyone can go through. I am at a loss for words but want to bless you and your girl for your strength, tenderness, openness, compassion. Rebecca may not get to do so many of the things others do, but she sure does know what it feels like to be loved. Bless your family
I have never met your family.
I know people who love you.
I pray for you every day.
I hope you know you are loved,
in ways you will never know.
Eric – Sometimes I wish you couldn’t write about what you and your family are going through right now so eloquently, as it would allow me to put some distance, some sense of abstraction, between your pain and us. This process is already so heartbreaking, but the fact that you convey it so well and so movingly makes it that much more personal, visceral, and real. I am so sorry this is happening to Becca, to you and Kat, and to Becca’s sister and brother. Keep loving, being honest, and living in the moment for as long as you can. You’re in our thoughts and prayers.
Stay strong and be well and all my best wishes to you and yours.
You are all in my thoughts
Eric, my heart and soul go out to you.
I wish you and yours peace and clarity to deeply drink in the love and joy as those sparks linger. I wish you and yours the deepest comfort.
My thoughts, prayers, and wishes have been with you for months and continue on.
Peace be with all.
I’m a dad and know I would go crazy with grief in such a situation.
You are the bravest family, Eric: like Carolyn said, you’ve just saved your daughter from utter isolation.
And, by telling it, you’re brave a second time.
My sincere, deepest sympathetic thoughts to you and your family.
I wish there were something I could do or say to ease this. I’m glad you’re able to write, and I am so sorry. I’m thinking of you and your family.
I wish for you to only know love and peace for all of your days. You are truly loved, and you’re fotunate to be able to realize how much impact you have on so many other people. I don’t know you, nor your family. I am a woman in Toronto who has come across your dad’s posts, and I have been deeply and profoundly impacted by your story. People who do not know you, are thinking about you and sending you lots of love. You are in my heart now, and I will keep you there.
Oh God, this is a pain I cannot even fathom. I am so sorry.
Tell Rebecca not to be scared for she is loved. There is no fear where there is love. She will never die for she is in your heart forever.
Dear Kat and Eric, I can only imagine what this process has been like. And, like those before me, I am so sorry that all of you must experience this.
Your conversation with Rebecca was so loving. This is so important now (Rebecca will trust you for it). I didn’t have that when my father told me my mother was dying. We weren’t allow to tell her she was dying (this was decades ago when this situation was much more common) and so I didn’t have the opportunity to share that experience with her.
As horrific as this is, in very human terms you have created a wonderfully rich and honest place for all of you. I don’t know you personally but I am so proud of your courage (I know, you don’t feel at all courageous). And I’m so happy that Rebecca has you to curl up with and feel protected. I will sending you positive beams from now on. It’s my way of offering my lap to all of you to curl up in.
I am so sorry to hear about this. I wish the best for all of you.
Eric you’ve long been an inspiration to many of us. I pray the best for you all.
I’m so, so sorry, Eric. Thinking of you and your family. I’ve only recently become a father and I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through, but you appear to be handling it with as much grace as feels humanly possible.
Dear Eric and Kat
Thinking of all of you. So gut wrenching.
Love and respect to you all, Eric. Thank you for sharing this with us.
I lost my wife to cancer. I was the one to tell her it was terminal. I can only guess at your shared agony. Thank you for sharing. People have to know of these battles and the nobility shown during them. I wish you strength for the road ahead and friendship for the road beyond. God bless you all.
Please keep on sharing…
I was there when doctors told mom that she will beat cancer, I was there as well when they told her her cancer was terminal and that sadly they missed something during surgery
I too have cancer but not like moms, I know that eventually it will get me….
Eric, I came here through a a post on ADN. I don’t know you or your family personally but am in awe of the strength and love that your family rests on. I am sorry that this is happening to Rebecca and sincerely hope that things take a turn for the better. I sincerely wish for peace and comfort for your family in this difficult time.
Keeping Rebecca, Kat and yourself in my thoughts <3
Rocks and Roles | Disruptive Library Technology Jester
[…] removed, and that their search for a drug or a technique to shrink it would probably be fruitless. It was Rebecca who knew this meant she was going to die. Earlier than any child […]
May good will and strength continue to come to you, Rebecca, Kat and everyone in your family. As a father myself, I can’t imagine how difficult your situation must be, and I can only offer words of kindness and hope that Rebecca gets better :( stay strong!
my thoughts are with you and yours
Article Roundup for 04.11.2014 | Tvenge Design
[…] The Truth For those that don’t know, Eric Meyer has been essential in the whole Web Standards Movement. His daughter has been suffering with a brain tumor for some time now, and it looks like he had to give some bad news to her yesterday. My thoughts go out to Eric and his family. Can’t even imagine… […]
How are you all today? Still in my thoughts. Lynne
Thinking of you and your family. I will keep you in my prayers.
Siobhan McKeown | So much truth
[…] I didn’t know Rebecca Meyer, or at least not in person. I don’t even know Eric Meyer, though his name has come up here and there during the research I’m doing. I happened to be on his blog to read something he wrote years ago. I clicked onto his home page and stumbled on a blog post with the title The Truth. […]
My love, to you and yours. I couldn’t imagine this.
I came to your site accidentally and went through all the posts involving Rebecca. It is at this post I stopped forcibly and wanted to comment but not knowing what to write. Still, I don’t know how to react.
Rebecca made me cry. She made me realize how essential it is to spend quality time with kids.
I am agnostic, but I am sure she is in right hands, whatever they are.
This >> “As horrific as this is, in very human terms you have created a wonderfully rich and honest place for all of you. I don’t know you personally but I am so proud of your courage (I know, you don’t feel at all courageous). And I’m so happy that Rebecca has you to curl up with and feel protected.”
I found your blog through articles about the FB Year in Review. Your family is in my thoughts.