On October 24, my son’s third Angel date (for the uninitiated: the day my child died), I was surrounded by my best friends of several decades, raising our glasses and voices in memory of Lucas, eating his favorite foods, telling stories into the Vermont night. Three years ago I could not have imagined such love and laughter, feeling almost at peace. Did I miss my son? Tremendously. Yet I was so grateful for the lives he had touched, and for my continued interactions with our community, who knew and loved Lucas in different ways: my dear friend (a midwife) who helped usher him into this world, another who babysat for him, others who have been his ‘aunties’ from the start. I learned about my child that night. These cherished memories fill out the Lucas I knew and loved and offered a more complete picture.
The following day, a friend called me and asked “are you sitting down?” While we had been celebrating the too-short life of Lucas, a message had been left on her home phone. (Yes, some people still have landlines!): the son of one of our mutual friends had died just two days before, while skiing in the Chilean Andes. He was 25 years old. The irony struck us both like an iron fist. We never imagined that our circle of friends would lose another young man, especially a man so full of vitality and joie de vivre, at the tender age at which I lost Lucas.
I dedicate this blog to the memory of Caleb Ladue, a hearty, daring, caring, utterly charming, brilliant young man. A bright spark, who touched lives and hearts across the continents. Caleb, you are forever missed.