A Repost from the Duxbury Clipper, June 30, 2021
Until very recently, yellow was one of my least favorite colors.
One month ago, I vividly remember joking with my wife Heather during her last night with us about our newborn son’s gassy condition (his farts smell positively toxic)…she had retired to the bedroom to relax and I was “working it out” with Macaulay trying to get him ready for bed and hopefully get some of that gas out so that he was ready to eat and turn in quietly for the night.
Around 10:45, I brought him in, Heather smiling, joking and getting ready to breastfeed him. I think I fell asleep around 20 minutes later as he was feeding…an old South Park rerun was on the DVR and we laughed about how different so many things were in the world between the early episodes and now. I leaned over, gave her a kiss and told her I loved her.
Around 2:45, Macaulay woke me with his crying, and everything changed. Heather was gone.
To say this was a fault of the universe, un fair, crazy, unbelievable would be to underplay the gravity of what was now absolutely and terrifyingly real. Everything had broken. The moment Heather did not respond to our son’s cries of hunger or my touch, our world was upended, battered, and scrambled all at once, in one horrific, final flat spin.
Yet what emerged from that moment, those minutes, hours and days after this terrible loss, have been comforting. Soothing. Loving. Nurturing. Caring. Nothing will bring Heather back to us in this world, but the outpouring of support, solidarity and love from the community has given so much positive energy and added life to our family.
The Duxbury community has done so much for us, from friends organizing a fund to local businesses bringing flowers, food, dog food, formula and diapers, to friends and mere acquaintances showering us with constant support. Our children’s school insisted that they can go full days while not raising tuition and offered to be an emergency drop off at any time for any reason. Heather’s friend rebuilt the garden fence damaged from storms last year, then another friend weeded the garden and even other friends replanted it. Friends that I didn’t realize are as close as they are do our weekly dump runs, bring food and entertain the kids and are constantly checking in.
The yellow ribbons everywhere in town are so special and show how far and wide the pain is felt and shared with all and how wide and deep the support network truly runs. My son Riggs saw them on the way to school the day after he lost his mother and asked where they came from.
“What are all the yellow ribbons for?” He asked. “For Mommy, Riggs, it is everyone in Duxbury saying how much they love and miss Mom”
“But Mommy can’t see them now,” said Riggs.
“Don’t worry Riggs, she sees them.”
The Bone and O’Shaughnessy families see them too.
Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for how you have embraced and treated me and my family. I am not a Duxbury native, but I sure am lucky that the universe led me here and that my children will grow up and know and live and breathe such an absolutely amazing place with so many incredible people.
Cole Patrick O’Shaughnessy
