I am currently at a professional conference. My daughter, who is three, is with my mom at our home. This is the first time I’ve been away from her for more than the workday since Patrick died. I got a FaceTime call last night from CR, and she was gasping sobs, wanting me to be there as she went to sleep. I sang her some songs– ours are “Twinkle Twinkle” and “Over the Rainbow” — and my mom reported that she went to sleep pretty easily after we had said goodnight.

The opening speaker at the conference was CNN’s Anderson Cooper, who was promoting his new book about his relationship with his mother, Gloria Vanderbilt. Cooper lost his father when he was only ten years old and lost his brother to suicide when he was a senior in college. He said two things during his talk that I found haunting:

1. Regarding the death of his father, he said he realized that “all things are possible and nothing is safe.” CR is much younger to have suffered our loss, but I think her tears last night may have been rooted in a fear that, like her father, there is a possibility that I might not come back.
2. After his brother’s suicide, Cooper sought out war zones to report on because, as he put it, “I wanted to be around people who spoke the language of loss.” CR and I talk about her father on a daily basis, and she usually initiates the conversation. This is our shared experience. My three-year-old and I speak a language of loss that none of our peers have yet learned; Her friends all still have daddies; My friends are either recently married or still single. In my family, I am the first faced with raising a child without a spouse.

Tonight’s bedtime phone call was much better–no heart wrenching sobs–but the anxiousness in CR’s voice about my absence is evidence of this new language she’s been forced to learn. Does the death of someone you love make you instantly fluent in the language of loss, or like all new languages, does it take years to learn?

P.S. The running continues. I am sore, and the soft skin of my feet is tender, but as I alternated walking and running in the crisp air of early morning, I felt hopeful and happy and glad of the effort.

P.P.S. I promise I wrote my blog’s tag line BEFORE I saw Cooper’s book cover!