The Dark Side of Fortune

All of the great things that happened for Andrew over the past several weeks just turned bittersweet. We received the awful news today that Andrew's mother was found dead at home. It seems so much for a boy of 12 to digest.

I was awakened today by his father. Feeling annoyed, I said, "Someone better have died." I don't think I'll ever approach anything that way again.

I'm not a religious person, but I've always figured there was a reason this boy and I were thrown together. When he was little, his father used to call at times that decent people were asleep, crying that he missed my nephew Christopher, his oldest son. Originally, he wanted Christopher to be named after him, but he called me once and declared triumphantly that he'd had another son who was bestowed with his name. I couldn't have cared less. I never figured I'd see this boy. Three years ago, that same child came to live with me.

In April, I had to go to a dinner for the Midwest fellows of the Arthur F. Burns program. At least, I thought at the time that visit to Chicago was about me. I suggested that the Andrews come along so the little one could visit with his mother. I'd been to Chicago before but always was uncomfortable taking Andrew there because I have no legal rights to this child. So this time, I told his dad to come along -- and to bring the guardianship papers with him.

Andrew drove to the westside Chicago basement apartment where the little one's mother lived. We hadn't told the child or his mother about the plan until we already were on the road. We pulled up to the Victorian where a diminutive woman waited anxiously on the sidewalk to see the child who'd disappeared from her life three years earlier. We couldn't open the sliding door to our Odyssey quickly enough. I entered the apartment to change clothes, then Andrew drove me to the Stock Exchange where I was to have dinner at Everest. While I broke bread with this group of strangers, Andrew visited with his mother and other family, eating the fried chicken they offered.

It's got to be more than coincidence that on that day, I was spirited to Chicago. I did my fellowship 10 years ago, and though the program officials keep in close contact with us, I haven't participated in any dinners or programs since they sent me to Germany. Likewise, Andrew hadn't seen his mother once since he'd come to live with me. Yet each of these events converged, and a little more than a month later, his mother is gone.

It's been suggested to me that Mary's death will bring closure to that chapter of Andrew's life. But can one ever really close the book on his parents? Both of my parents are still alive. But I've seen many people damaged by the loss of their parents or by the parents' inability to fulfill the child's vision.

Fortunately, Andrew's mother caught a glimpse of what he's destined to become. She saw him on The Today Show, and she heard about his plans for the summer. Now Andrew must deliver on the promise that his mother saw.

Out of deference to Andrew, The Today Show has postponed airing an update on Andrew's offer from the Dance Theatre of Harlem.