Book Report: Hello Molly

My most devoted blog reader, Dudu, encouraged me to listen to Anderson Cooper's series "All there is" on grief. 

This is the point where I have to admit that I don't like podcasts. They fall in the category of things I don't like but the rest of the world does. While I'm being honest, I also don't like concerts or watching live news. But, Anderson Cooper had some guests on the show that I couldn't resist - namely Stephen Colbert. With the writers strike, I'll do most anything to just get a hit of Colbert. Also, Anderson Cooper's personality reminds me of Dudu. I'll do most anything for a hit of Dudu too. 

In many ways it is a mercy that I'd been recently thinking about grieving abstractly as I am now back in full throws of it with my uncle Karl's unexpected death. The podcast pointed me towards my current book, Molly Shannon's "Hello, Molly". 

Molly Shannon was on Anderson Cooper's podcast because she is no stranger to grief - losing her mom, baby sister, and adult cousin in a car accident at the age of four. This book is particularly helpful for me as a mother as she talks about how she thought about grief as a kid. As a comedian, she also provides some much needed comic relief around heavy topics. Reading a purely comical book right now would just feel wrong. Thankfully, Molly Shannon's book pretty well bridges the gap of all the feels. Speaking of which, I am going to pit some cherries and make some more progress on this book.

Heartbreak Hotel

My beloved uncle Karl took his own life on Friday. Why be honest about how he died? Why not just say, "my uncle died unexpectedly?" Because the truth signals that while all death is sad, this loss is soul crushing. 

Growing up, Karl was always a fun uncle. He made delicious food and pulled some epic pranks. However, Karl’s and my relationship really started when Paul and I sent Crosby half streaking through my mom’s memorial service.

I don't know if Karl also had a soft spot for baby buns in particular but he remarked, "You know, Joy and I would be happy to take Crosby for a weekend."

Six weeks later here we were:

Paul and I went away to Vashon Island for a night and a new annual tradition was born. I would like to point out that my motives for leaving Crosby with Karl and Joy were not entirely selfish. Yes, it was lovely to have alone adult time with Paul. But also, anyone who expresses interest in my kids is someone dear. For Crosby to be truly loved and adored was a gift for all parties involved. 

Whereas Crosby was a very relaxed kid around everyone, Hugo had a real case of the mamas. But when Karl was around, you wouldn't know it. From the first time they met, they were pals.

I was honored and delighted when Karl and Joy made the trip to Berlin in summer of 2019. Within minutes of arriving, Karl and Hugo picked up where they left off.

Crosby and Karl also had a great time.

Our most recent trip in April to Karl and Joy's was magical. Right before our arrival we had a lot of family drama. The four days with Karl and Joy were respite. The kids were so happy. Karl and Joy were happy. Family harmony was seemingly restored. I told Karl that we felt sort of forgotten in Berlin. He assured me that "we haven't forgotten you" and "we'll come visit again".

The last contact I had with Karl was to email him and Joy to thank them from the bottom of my heart for giving us the kids the "grandparent experience" I remembered as a kid. Yummy food, snuggles, quality TV programing, and more than anything the feeling of "Karl and Joy love us and want us to be here." I ended the email, as I usually do, with "Big hugs and lots of love".

And now we're here. I got to see the sweetest side of my uncle for the last eight years, and poof it's just gone. But the worst part about it, for me, is thinking how sad and lonely and desperate Karl must have felt in his last moments. I just want to scream, "The Beatles were WRONG. Love is not all you need." Karl had love from near and far and it wasn't enough.

I've found the conversations since his passing around suicide more or less unhelpful. Our current culture has little rhythms around mourning in general, and much less with a death from suicide. It's true all of us are left here holding different bags. Mine is much lighter than those closest to him - emailing Crosby's teacher to explain why he's having trouble concentrating in school; fielding very difficult questions; and trying to love my kids up, down, and sidewise in the fervent hope that they never find themselves in such a dark place of total despair. 

I am thankful that we got to spend the time we did with my uncle. But you know what? It wasn't enough. I want more. I wanted Karl to teach Hugo some guitar. I wanted them to cook together more. I wanted another Berlin visit. What we have now is broken hearts and bittersweet memories. I will forever be grateful to Karl for reaching out to me when my mom died. I am grieving that I didn't know that he was in his time of need. 

Free Ambulance Ride

Caution: Post contains very amateur, slightly gory photography.

11:09 While in route to the pediatrician with Hugo, phone call from Crosby's school

"Hi Frau Biggs. Crosby tripped and hit his head on a desk. It's a lot of blood but the cut doesn't seem to be that bad. We need to call an ambulance, how quickly can you get here?"

This is one of those moments when I wonder if I have any maternal instincts. I actually wasn't really that worried. I knew Crosby would be bummed because he would likely miss that afternoon's birthday party.  My bigger concern was getting there in time to meet the ambulance so that Crosby wouldn't have to ride alone.

After a rare running of red lights and riding my bike on sidewalks, I met Crosby in the secretary's office. His teacher was there with him waiting. His biggest concern is that he was going to get stitches and it would hurt. The paramedics got there five minutes later. We all walked down the stairs and went in the side door of the ambulance. 

I don't really know what rules on photography in medical emergencies are, but I snapped some photos secretly. As such, the photo quality is even worse than my usual half hazard shots. 

The hospital is only five blocks from his school. They had the sirens going and everything. 

Like most of my life here in Germany, I only mostly understand the process and the language. I think that patients who arrive by ambulance get some kind of priority but also the emergency rooms' triage process applies. At this point we joined the other kids who had accidents at school or kita - falling off play structures, sliced fingers, etc. We had to fill out a special form for accidents occurring at school or on the job - so there was a liability reason that we had to go to the ER.

Five minute in-take

Why they took off the bandaid in the in-take, I don't totally understand. 

While we were lounging in the waiting room for two hours, a doctor came by and said, "Awesome. Just a surface wound." Then we both burst out laughing and he backtracked. I understand that Germans sometimes have a reputation for being too blunt. But, sometimes it makes for good comedy.

Right when I left Crosby to get sandwiches and a cappuccino, he was called into the room with the doctor. I rushed back. The doctor put some superglue in the cut, taped it over, did some concussion checks, and off we went.

Crosby got the red light on the jump house birthday party later that day, running around for the weekend, and swimming next week at his class trip. But, he got the green light to eat cake and attend the last half of the birthday party. I asked him if he wanted any ice cream and he said, "I'll likely eat a lot of sweets at the party." For a second, I wondered if he might actually have a concussion. He changed his tune later that evening as we passed by the Ikea.

On the way to the party we indulged in a little retail therapy - namely buying him another bike helmet. Did he need one? Not really. But in my rush to get to school, I didn't bring a helmet for him. Did I want to tempt fate with a second ER visit that day? No.

Of course there are other ways we'd rather spend our days than hanging out in the ER despite the free ambulance ride. BUT, I am so grateful to live in a country with an equitable healthcare system. I paid nothing for the visit and there will be no follow-up bill coming in the mail. When Paul was working, he paid 9% of his income for health insurance and his employer paid the other 9%. The more money you make, the more you pay. If you are a student, unemployed, on parental leave, or retired - the state significantly subsidizes your health insurance costs. The current cost to cover our whole family is 240 Euros a month/280 USD. 

This is what affordable health care looks like.