Two Years Later: The Book I Couldn’t Find Is Finally Here

Two years ago today, everything changed.

August 7, 2024 became one of those dates that divides a life into before and after.

It was the beginning of some of the most difficult moments I have ever lived through as a parent and, frankly, some of the most difficult moments of my entire life.

Kendra was twenty-three years old when what initially seemed like an infection became necrotizing fasciitis, sepsis, emergency surgeries, an ICU stay, a coma, and a fight for her life that none of us could have imagined.

There were helicopters. Surgeons. Waiting rooms. Forms. Phone calls. A trauma hospital chapel. A Boston ICU. More surgeries than I could keep straight without writing them down. There were moments when all I could do was sit beside her, advocate for her, and try not to think too far beyond the next hour.

And somehow, against odds that were terrifyingly bad, she survived.

She did more than survive.

She fought her way back.

Last year, on August 7, Kendra and I marked the anniversary by getting forever bracelets together, a tiny permanent reminder of how far she had come in her healing journey.

This year, we get to celebrate something neither of us could have taken for granted two summers ago:

Her second chance at life.

But surviving the storm does not mean you simply walk away from it.

Trauma has a long memory.

Recovery can be extraordinary and messy at the same time. Gratitude and grief can occupy the same room. You can know how unbelievably lucky you are while still carrying the fear, exhaustion, anger, guilt, hypervigilance, and damage left behind.

Things have been…

hard.

In ways that have sometimes surprised me.

And that is part of why today feels like the right day to finally talk about the book I have quietly been carrying for almost two years.

The Book I Went Looking For

During those first terrible weeks, I kept looking for something.

Not another explanation of Kendra’s diagnosis. Not another medical article. Not a book telling me to meditate more, think positively, or accept that everything happens for a reason.

I needed a survival guide for me.

For the parent sitting in the hospital chair.

For the mother trying to understand what the surgeon just said while simultaneously answering family texts, dealing with insurance, remembering medications, worrying about everyone at home, and trying not to fall apart in front of her child.

And later, I needed a book for everything that came after.

What happens when the immediate emergency ends but your nervous system does not get the memo?

What happens when your adult child is still struggling?

How much do you help?

When does helping become rescuing?

How do you navigate medical systems, mental health crises, benefits, legal paperwork, addiction, abusive relationships, money, housing, boundaries, guilt, anger, marriage, siblings, and all the other things that can explode when someone you love is in crisis?

How do you remain their parent without becoming their entire treatment plan, crisis line, bank, chauffeur, case manager, and safety net?

And how do you love your child fiercely without disappearing yourself?

I could not find the book I needed.

So I started writing it.

And Then I Put It Away

I began Weathering the Storm almost two years ago.

By this time last year, much of it was nearly finished.

And then I let it sit.

Maybe I needed distance.

Maybe I needed to know that I could tell the truth without writing entirely from inside the rawest part of it.

Maybe I simply was not ready to send this part of our lives into the world.

Then I published my “fiction series”.

Book after book, I found my footing again as a writer. I learned that I could finish something, release it, and let readers make it their own.

And somewhere in that process, I realized I was finally ready to finish the book I had needed most.

Not because everything is fixed.

It isn’t.

Not because I have mastered parenting an adult child through crisis.

I absolutely have not.

But because there are other parents sitting awake at two in the morning right now wondering what the hell they are supposed to do next.

And I remember being one of them.

Today, I’m Sending It Out Into the World

There was no big countdown for this one.

No weeks of cover reveals.

No elaborate launch campaign.

Until now, I haven’t really talked publicly about this book at all.

It felt too close. Too important. Too intertwined with some of the hardest things my family has ever experienced.

But today is August 7.

And today feels right.

Weathering the Storm: A Survival Guide for Parents of Adult Children in Crisis is officially available.

It is part memoir, part practical field guide, and part hand reaching across the table to another exhausted parent saying:

I know. This is a lot.

The book covers medical catastrophe, mental health crises, suicidal thinking, psychosis, addiction, domestic violence, arrest, homelessness, disability, estrangement, financial collapse, grief, and more.

It also talks about the things parents often feel like we are not supposed to admit:

Resentment.

Burnout.

Fear.

Money.

Marriage under pressure.

The child who needs more than you have left to give.

The siblings whose lives keep happening while the family is in crisis.

And the guilt that can exist even when your child survives.

There are scripts, checklists, practical tools, an A to Z Emergency Weather Field Guide, and places to stop and ask the questions we so often avoid asking ourselves.

Most importantly, it does not tell parents to simply “let go.”

Love does not have an off switch.

But love does not require you to disappear, either.

And Kendra Gets the First Word

There is one piece of this book that means more to me than I can adequately explain.

The foreword is written by Kendra.

This story may begin with one mother’s terror, but it was never only my story.

She lived the storm from the center of it.

I lived it beside her.

Two years later, we are both still here.

That matters.

A Companion for the Pages That Need More Room

I also created Weathering the Storm Companion Journal: Guided Reflection for Parents of Adult Children in Crisis.

Some things need more room than the margins of a book.

The journal follows the themes of Weathering the Storm with guided reflection, Weather Checks, Beacons of Light, One Thing for Today, A Line to Carry, and space to write honestly about what you are carrying.

It does not require daily journaling.

It does not demand gratitude.

And it definitely does not ask anyone to turn their trauma into productivity.

Sometimes one sentence is enough.

Sometimes the page stays blank.

Sometimes surviving the day is the work.

Two Years

Two years ago today, I did not know what our lives would look like two hours later, much less two years later.

Last year, Kendra and I put forever bracelets on our wrists to remind ourselves how far she had come.

This year, I get to watch my daughter continue living the life she very nearly lost.

And I get to place this book into the hands of another parent who may be standing where I once stood.

Kendra beat odds that once felt impossible.

That does not mean the trauma vanished.

It means we are still learning how to live on the other side of it.

Today, I am adding another chapter.

Not because the storm is over forever.

Because we weathered it.

And because no one should have to weather the next one alone.

Love does not require you to disappear.