No One Knows
This is probably going to get some negative comments, so let me start here: I do not know all the details of the Lindsay Clancy story, and I do not want this thread to become a debate about whether particular decisions were right or wrong. None of us were there. And I’m guessing almost no one reading this has ever killed their own child, which pretty much eliminates us as experts on what happens inside the mind of someone who does. I have shared pieces of this story before. Technically, it isn’t entirely my story, but there is no one living today who would be harmed by my telling it. When I was 10 days old, I died. My parents had separated after only two years of marriage, and my mother and I were staying with her father. His girlfriend was visiting that day. The story I was always told was that she walked past my crib and saw a pillow covering my face. She pulled it off and began CPR. An ambulance came. I was pronounced dead. Thankfully, somebody didn’t give up. And 68 years la...