Dear Rob Delaney, I don’t know you but it feels like I do; I am a mother of three, and while I have not lost a child, I know about loving the hell out of them, their fresh, beautiful, kid- specific, perfect yet heartbreakingly transient qualities that we fall in love with knowing they will grow through them right before our eyes. Knowing that it’s worth it, the price of admission to the greatest show on Earth is parenthood. I cannot begin to fathom how indescribably terrible the grief you and your wife and boys must feel. I am impressed and humbled by the strength of character you display in honoring your son by writing about him so eloquently. I read your would be a book about sweet Henry with tears streaming down my face. How you manage to be hilarious, insightful, grief-stricken, honest and vulnerable in the midst of relaying your family’s story is so rare and admirable. As a writer, I want to tell you that what you have written is the reason we write in the best most meaning packed way: communication, connection, literally the reason we are here. I thank you for your story. It needs to be heard.

Freelance writer of plays/short stories/poetry/narrative non-fiction; lover of humor, chocolate, pratfalls, my children and husband (in no particular order..).

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