Today is Bereaved Mother's Day so it felt like the right time to post this chapter, inspired by something that happened to a bereaved mother I know.

The Pool and the Protest:

After spending most of the summer at Gravesen, Clint was ecstatic to be home. Ever since Kate completed treatment, he'd been utterly miserable almost every second he was stuck there. Edith looked forward to tucking him into his real bed every night and watching him practice archery in the backyard. The first week home was pretty quiet, Clint still recovering from this round of treatment, but on the Monday after they got home, he requested they go swimming.

"I haven't been to the pool in forever," he lamented. The only problem was, with the end of summer, their local outdoor pool was closed. That left only the indoor pool at the gym, which made Edith very, very nervous. Indoor enclosed spaces with large groups of people and a child with a compromised immune system didn't mix well. However, she couldn't bear to deny him such a simple wish.

So she took him swimming, and while he only lasted an hour in the pool before becoming too cold and tired to continue, he had so much fun that he wanted to come back. Edith struggled to deny him anything, so they started coming to the pool at least three times a week. On the weekends, Harry came along too, and he would get in the water too, racing Clint and tossing him out of the water. She rarely stopped smiling, watching him have this rare moment of carefree fun.

Three weeks into Clint's newfound freedom, a measles outbreak occurred, afflicting mostly unvaccinated children. Edith wanted to punch a hole in a wall. After watching a segment about it on the news, neither of them slept. Harry spent all night in the workshop while Edith immediately vented to her Momcology support group in their shared chat.

"These anti-vax assholes have no idea what it's like," Jackie Fury said.

"Measles can be FATAL," Liz Howlett added. The woman rarely used all caps, so Edith knew she was livid. "If I could keep my kid from dying? There's nothing I wouldn't do. Getting them vaccinated is so easy."

"Agreed," Eleanor said.

"It doesn't just protect them. It protects other kids too. Especially those like ours that can't fight off bugs the way other kids can," Edith said.

"It makes me so mad that there are parents out there who would take their kids' health for granted like that," Liz continued.

The conversation continued for hours, until Edith literally couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of holding four-year-old Clint down as he screamed in pain and fear when nurses examined his incision after that first, big surgery. All the things she and Harry had done to keep their son alive, and some people wouldn't even get their kids vaccinated. It sickened her.

That morning, she got an email from the local gym that they were now requiring parents to submit proof of the MMR vaccine, which included measles, to enroll their kids in any of their programs, and for children already enrolled. After such a terrible night, Edith breathed a sigh of relief knowing at least some people had an ounce of common sense and faith in science. She was glad they'd decided to homeschool Clint, otherwise she'd be paranoid about him getting sick in a classroom. If it came down to it, she knew that she would've contacted the school and demanded they ensure the environment was safe for her son. Still, that was one less thing for her to worry about.

She made breakfast for her and Clint and completed his morning schoolwork. When Clint wasn't literally too sick to move, it was difficult to keep him sitting still for an extended period, so she used her time wisely. After completing the day's work, he asked to go back to the pool. Edith hesitated to say yes. Before all this, she would've agreed instantly. It was such a simple thing to grant her son who had been denied so many facets of a normal childhood. But now she was afraid. The indoor pool wasn't typically crowded on weekday afternoons—because most kids were in school—but they still ran the risk of picking up germs. At the same time, Clint was stronger than he'd been in a long time.

"Please, Mom?" He started begging simultaneously in English and in sign, his right hand working ferocious circles on his chest.

"Okay," she said. Edith told herself that everything would be fine and packed the swim bag with fresh towels. "Go put your suit on."

He dashed up the stairs and along the way shouted, "Yessss! Thank you, Mom."

His joy offset any lingering uneasiness. Edith got changed into her swimsuit too, knowing full well that she wouldn't even get in the pool. By the time she finished, Clint was waiting in the kitchen, with swim trunks and sans hearing aids. They weren't waterproof, so he just went without them in the pool. She didn't know as much sign language as Harry, but enough to manage an afternoon.

When they arrived, the parking lot was more crowded than she expected. It set her nerves on edge, but after coming this far she didn't dare disappoint Clint by turning around and going home. If she'd known what that crowd consisted of, she would have gone home, regardless of how upset Clint became.

In the lobby stood a horde of people. A few of them carried homemade signs that said things like "Say no to mandatory vaccines," "I call my own shots," and "Our children. Our choice." Edith grew sick to her stomach just looking at them. The teenager working the desk, on the other hand, her expression rested somewhere between indifference and exhaustion. Edith supposed she couldn't force the protesters to leave unless they were causing a disturbance. Standing in the lobby with signs was well within their rights. However, Edith didn't work here, and she couldn't just stand by and let these people stand unopposed against such a basic rule.

She approached the least-angry looking person of the bunch and said very calmly, "They're just trying to keep our children healthy."

"You don't know what's in those vaccines," the woman shot back.

Another, far angrier looking woman beside her raised her voice and asked sharply, "How could you knowingly poison your own child?"

The accusation hit her like a slap to the face. Edith couldn't possibly look this woman in the face for one more second without punching it, so she wrapped her arm around Clint and ushered him towards the pool area. "Mom, what did she say?" Clint asked. He must not have heard, but he could clearly tell from her body language that she was upset about it. When she didn't answer, he repeated, "Mom. I didn't hear, what did she say? What's wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," she assured. This was one of those surprisingly frequent occasions when she considered Clint's hearing loss a positive thing. If he'd heard what that awful woman said to her…Edith didn't even want to think about the ramifications. How could you knowingly poison your own child? She and Harry had knowingly poisoned Clint for years now. As they made their way towards the pool, moments flashed before her eyes. The skin on the back of Clint's head bright red and peeling from radiation burns. His hair falling out in massive clumps. Standing inside a hazmat suit and listening to Clint scream to be held, knowing she couldn't because the chemo coursing through his body was too toxic. How could she knowingly poison her own child? She had no other choice.

Clint took off his shirt to get in the water, and the sight of the massive scar across his abdomen treated her to yet more memories. He turned back towards the pool, but Edith stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Clint?" she used the name sign Mrs. Bishop had given him. "I love you."

He offered her the abbreviated version in return, with his thumb, index finger, and pinkie raised. With that, he leapt into the pool, any concern about her seemingly forgotten now that he had what he came here for. Edith sat down in the nearest pool chair and watched him enjoy himself. She willed this vision to overwrite all the terrible ones racing through her head, but it was impossible. No amount of good memories could erase all the bad that had happened in the last five years. Those moms out in the lobby that thought being forced to give their child a shot or two was the worst injustice they could possibly face, Edith wished she could show them some of the things she and Harry had been forced to do to Clint. That would change their minds real quick. They had no idea what true unfairness looked like.

That night, she told Harry about the protesters. But she didn't repeat that woman's words. The fewer people that heard them, the better. When she said them, that woman probably had no idea how hurtful her words had been. She didn't know about the literal poison that Edith had consented to have pumped into her son, along with the little measles vaccine that she considered of equal caliber. Edith cried herself to sleep that night, and once again dreamed of the worst moments from the past five years.

As I mentioned earlier, this chapter is based on a true story I heard from a cancer mom on social media. She was picking up her younger child (the older died of neuroblastoma 2 years prior) from swim practice at a facility that required COVID vaccination cards to enter, and an anti-vax protester at the entrance asked her the same question asked of Edith in this chapter: How could you knowingly poison your child? A hurtful thing to say to any parent, but infinitely worse for a cancer parent to hear, especially one that lost her child. Regardless of your stance on any topic, please keep in mind that you never know someone's story. Just be kind, it's as simple as that.