EPILOGUE

Five and a half years have passed, about fifty years in Fox years. I have been waiting for a really good day where everyone was happy and moving forward to write this epilogue. It took a while to get there.

Dan and I are living on a sailboat in the Puget Sound with our three youngest kids. I haven’t been bitten in months. Days go by without me even breaking a sweat. Sometimes I’ll ground a kid or count them to three, just to keep my skills up.

Audrey married a German software engineer she met rock climbing. The ceremony took place in 2016 at my parents’ home in California. They are currently living outside of Heidelberg and we got some FaceTime tours of the apartment, baking projects, and new cat. There is talk about starting a family soon and we’re excited for them.

Ruby graduated high school last June, just before her nineteenth birthday, and moved back to upstate New York where we used to live. My spies tell me she is doing well, singing in the SUNY gospel choir and has had a steady boyfriend now for five months. (Shh! I’m not supposed to know that.) I told the children they could not start dating until they were thirty-five, hoping that would give me some negotiating room as they got older. But my sources all say he’s a good guy and you know what? It’s hard for anyone to maintain a relationship at that age, so good on her. Ruby started community college this month as a full-time student, and is working towards a degree in criminal justice. It’s going well. She is making new friends and catching up with some old ones.

Jimmy celebrated his eighteenth birthday two months ago during boot camp at Pendleton. He is now a private in the US Marine Corp, and spent the last ten days at home on leave. My sister asked him what the hardest part of boot camp was and he said, “Missing my family.” I drove him to the airport at 3 a.m. for a flight back to San Diego, where he will train for another month, then get assigned to Lord knows where. I gave him a hug goodbye, “I love you, Jimmy.” He hugged me back, big hug, bigger smile. He turned and walked towards security, then stopped, looked back and we waved to each other. I stood there, waving. He looked back three times to wave before disappearing around a corner. One of the airport staff said, “You can walk with him to security if you want.” Tears were streaming down my face, “No, it’s okay,” I said, “he doesn’t need me bawling all over him.”

Jason is seventeen and a senior in public school. He’s getting straight As (except for math), manages the wrestling team, and sings in the choir. He plays piano, writes his own songs, singing beautifully in tune, a core Fox family value. Jason sang at Audrey’s wedding, and is available for birthday parties and poetry slams. He opens this weekend as a solo act for a regional battle of the bands called “Rock the Island.” After graduation in the spring he is planning to attend a culinary arts school and become a chef.

Susie is sixteen, a sophomore in public school and a promising violinist, performing regularly in recitals, chamber music groups, and regional youth orchestras. She is currently singing one of the lead roles in the school musical and taking a break from running track and field to get her grades up. She wants to go to college and be a social worker.

Anthony is fourteen, growing slowly, but steadily. He’s four feet tall and is celebrating his recent growth spurt into size 7 children’s clothes! We’re still homeschooling him, reading Harry Potter and studying piano. Anthony swims two hours every day and rides his bike when the weather permits. Both he and Jason are healthy, completely mobile with no deterioration in the past three years. The doctors ordered another genetic screening of them to be sure the diagnoses for Duchenne’s muscular dystrophy is correct; the disease is not manifesting characteristically. The test confirmed they have Duchenne’s, but can’t explain why they’re doing so well.

It was a rough time getting here and we know there are rough times ahead. We still take it a day at a time, working to build our family even as the kids are growing up and leaving. Some days I succumb to empty nest envy, wishing I could miss all our kids sooner. Dan and I are exhausted, but take heart in knowing the older kids have a home to miss, and the younger ones can see a future ahead. Ruby texted me the other day, “I’m nervous about going to college.” I texted back, “It’s okay to be nervous, sweetie. We’ve seen you work hard. We know you can do it.” She wrote back, “You’re right. I’m a Fox kid. We are strong and confident. We always make it through.”