Forrest Schoenberger
08/23/1998 to 02/09/2002

Bar Reading From Her Book As many of you know, I've written a memoir about my son Forrest's life. I recorded the first 12 minutes of the book as an experiment (since I hope to record the whole book in audio form eventually and because I have a studio to record it in!) This is not the final version of the book, but it's close enough. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for listening. Bar Click here to listen to or download

If you are here visiting Forrest and me, please feel free to e-mail me directly or post to my guestbook. I would love to hear from you and to know what brought you here. Thank you.

Forrest, Spring 2000   Forrest, Winter 2002   November 2, 2006 Our son Forrest was born August 23, 1998, and like all new parents, my husband Peter and I couldn’t believe how deeply we could feel love until we were holding him in our arms. I was 2 months shy of my 40th birthday, Forrest was my first and only child and I was the happiest woman alive. 22 months later, Forrest was diagnosed with a rare pediatric liver cancer called hepatoblastoma. One day he was a perfectly healthy little person and the next day he was not. His cancer was stage-4 at diagnosis and his prognosis for survival was not good at all. I wish that I could report a medical miracle here, but I cannot. The miracle I experienced was one of life and love so deep that despite Forrest’s death 18 months later, I am grateful beyond words to have been his mom and to have known such a remarkable human being. Peter and I count our good fortune in days, and we had 1266 of them with Forrest. When Forrest was diagnosed, I had just finished recording Grapes and Seeds and I was looking forward to promoting the record with live shows. I wrote to my fans to let them know why my shows were being cancelled and was immediately enveloped in their support. That first e-mail was one of hundreds that I wrote spontaneously as Forrest, Peter and I lived with cancer, life, death and grief. Within weeks, there were people reading my on-line journal all around the world. In response, they would send us words of support, love and hope. Their messages literally sustained us. There were thousands of messages and we thrived on every one of them. So much good came from that internet conversation that I have decided to keep my e-mails on this website for people to read if they would like. I still get messages from families who are in the same boat that we were in and who have discovered this part of my website. It means a lot to me to hear from them, or from those of you who are just reading my thoughts out of curiosity. Mostly though, I keep all of these e-mails posted to keep the doors open. Forrest’s life was a time of such openness and such emotional intensity. My hope is that by keeping these e-mails available that I will be reminded – and perhaps you will be too – that openness is a good and powerful thing. It is something that allows all of us to reach out, to touch and feel and to support one another throughout our lives. Thank you for your support of my family and my music. In Forrest’s absence, and because of the inspiration of his life and death, I feel more committed than ever to my work. I hope that my music will provide an opportunity for you to feel the deep stuff of your life. And more than anything, I hope that by knowing Forrest just a little bit, you will have a sense of the goodness that he brought to this world during his short life. Much love, Bar

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Subject: 11!
Date:  Sunday, August 23, 2009 -- 11:16am
Posted By: Bar

Hard to believe, but today is Forrest's would-be 11th birthday. As  
usual, when these dates come around, I think of all of you and want  
to check in and say hello. I think this is the first year since his  
death that it's rained on his birthday, and boy it has rained! The  
air is as dense as can be and all of the trees are sodden. I just  
pulled all the dead leaves and blossoms off of my potted plants  
outside and they're all looking a lot better. They love the rain, but  
they rot pretty quickly if I don't tend them after a rain like last  
night's.

I tried hard not to have plans for today, but my friend Joy Hausman  
died on Thursday and she asked that I sing "Love is the Reason" at  
her funeral, so that's what I'm doing today. How could I say no? I  
did ask if I could simply sing and then exit gracefully. A full  
funeral just feels like too much on a day that's already someone  
else's. Her husband and children completely understand, so I feel  
better about leaving early.

Peter is sound asleep on the couch after nine hours of sleep last  
night. I wonder if anniversaries wear him out like they wear me out.  
If the sun were shining it would make all the difference in the  
world. Hard to get motivated to celebrate a birthday when skies are  
gray.

If there's a break in the clouds, I'll take a hike this afternoon.  
It's so beautiful here regardless of the weather that if I can just  
get the right rain gear on, a walk will be perfect.

I hope your last days of summer vacation are fun.

Love,
Bar

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