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His Name Was Daniel. He Could Have Been My Son.
Daniel Joseph Carver was unable to manage his demons. He died in a gunfight with cops following a high-speed car chase.
Author’s Note
As some of you know due to my recently published Medium series on the matter, I unexpectedly lost my wife, Lorie Girsh-Eisenberg, last month from a hemorrhagic stroke caused by the bursting of an undetected aneurysm.
I have since found myself experiencing a veritable parade of reflective thoughts, looking back fondly on our courtship and marriage while holding random negative thoughts at bay.
Though this is no veiled warning — please do not take it as such — I believe I now understand the self-destructive impulse of the subject that propelled the following story, the original version of which was published on Christmas Eve, 2018.
Context: Lorie and I did not have children, which twice caused its share of immediate heartbreak. The first period of grief was when I unilaterally elected to discontinue my wife’s second round of fertility treatments due to the severe physical and emotional pain they were causing her. For her part, she wanted to continue them for my benefit. The second key event was when a planned adoption did not work out.
