Why? Why me? Why us? Why him?
The weight of these questions have truthfully ebb and flowed my entire life as I have grieved the life we had… and the life that could have been.
It’s not often that I get to share, or even asked to share, our family’s story. And, I get it. Grief and death are not favorable topics. Hell, even my chest is tight as I write this. But the silence perpetuates a cycle of suffering.
Over the last 7 years since the death of my father, I have grown to appreciate the sheer power of vulnerability and the healing connections it brings. That’s why I choose vulnerability, even though it feels like baring my soul to a world that might not understand.
But through it all, I’ve learned a profound truth: joy and sorrow can coexist. Anger and appreciation can coexist. There is no blueprint or rulebook to this. And this is where the connectivity of human emotions can be so powerful in healing and peace.
With that, I want to share that July is National Medical Malpractice Awareness Month.
In 1998, my dad’s life as he knew it changed. Mom and dad hadn’t even reached their 5-year marriage anniversary yet. I was 19 months old, my sister was 3 months old. For the next 19 years of his life, my dad lived with irreversible physical, cognitive, and psychological damage due to medical malpractice. While recounting all of the details now are far too painful for me, I find hope in sharing this message.
The message I carry is heavy, but its weight lessens with each person who hears it. Our family’s story, though preventable and tragic, has the potential to be a shield for others. While sharing my grief in this way feels like drowning, I do believe that within it lies a powerful form of advocacy and remembrance.
I hope that the vulnerability I choose can be a source of strength, not just for myself, but for countless others who might find solace in knowing they’re not alone.
Please know that Dad wasn’t and isn’t defined by tragedy. He was, and always will be, so much more.
Sharing his story during National Medical Malpractice Awareness Month isn’t just about the injustice he faced. It’s about ensuring his legacy lives on – a legacy of compassion, resilience, and kindness.
I hope his story evokes more empathy, and ultimately, safer healthcare for everyone.
And for those out there struggling with their own grief, know this: you are seen. You are held. You are not alone. In the shared experience of human pain, there is a flicker of hope, a testament to the enduring power of love and the beauty of a life well-lived.
“May there be comfort in knowing that someone so special will never be forgotten.” – Julie Hébert
Dad will never be forgotten, not for what happened to him, but for the incredible person he was. And that, I believe, is the truest and most beautiful way to honor his memory.
As always… I love you forever and ever, Poppa.
Donovan O’Shea Duncan | May 17, 1959 — January 7, 2017
KATHRYN SHEA DUNCAN 