I’m writing this on January 25, 2026. Tomorrow marks 15 years since my first-born son, Connor “Peanut,” passed away in his sleep. January 26, 2011. There is no cause of death – SUDC (Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood).
When I first began writing this article, I had just started watching HBO’s hospital drama series The Pitt (I know, I’m late to the party). The show immediately surfaced memories of the amazing hospital, emergency room team, EMT crew, social workers, police officers, and others who surrounded me, my husband, step kids, parents, siblings, and our entire family with love, concern, grace that day. It offered me a much deeper opportunity to experience an ounce of the heartbreak these professionals experience each and every day – all while putting others’ needs before their own. Additionally, it got me thinking a lot about the concept of humanity, and how – on the most tragic day of my own life – I got to witness the best this world has to offer. Humanity in its most pure form.
Then yesterday, a 37 year-old gentleman named Alex Pretti, who was an ICU nurse at the Minneapolis VA hospital, an Eagle Scout, cancer researcher, and US Citizen who was a gun owner with a legal conceal/carry permit and was disarmed, was shot to death while assisting a woman who had been pepper sprayed by masked border patrol agents. Within minutes members of the “Administration” were asking us not to believe what we saw on the many recordings of the incident, but to instead believe what they were telling us. Lies with an intention to further divide this country. To divert attention away from the fact that a nurse – one of the very best of us – was ruthlessly shot no less than 10 times while…helping.
Honestly, it has shaken me to my core. This is not a political article. Honestly, we are way beyond that point. I am writing from the perspective of a bereaved mom who cannot imagine the very public, and complex grief and pain of Alex’s family. A senseless death, in many ways created by a callous, leaderless governing body who throw trigger-words around like confetti.
Which brings me back to humanity. Core, fundamental humanity. Being human simply requires an awareness of our shared human experience, compassion and care. Under the flag of “politics” the very concept of humanity has been corrupted. When groups of people are singled-out as being more – or less – deserving of humane treatment, when people are viewed as currency, when they are de-humanized by referring to them as threats we have lost our most fundamental sense of humanity. We have learned this lesson before, through wars and acts of mass genocide. We have the power to stop it.
Lean into your humanity. It is what’s been stripped away via social media, endless explosive headlines and fear tactics. Turn off the fire hose of information spray. Focus on what’s most important – not on what you are being told to think or feel.
Leaders, now is the time to put the oxygen mask on yourself first, to ensure you are strong, clear-headed, well rested. It is up to you to help your teams feel less isolated. A good leader is expected to set the tone and pace for their organization, team – even if the environment around them is one of exhaustion and fear. Solid, decisive leadership that keeps people at the center is what’s required now.
When I think back to the morning of January 26, 2011 and the days and weeks that followed, much of it is a blur. You know what I remember vividly? The endless moments of humanity. The EMT who stood in our bedroom while they took over CPR and directed me to get my boots and coat because I was riding in the ambulance and ordered my husband to get in the car and follow on our tail. I remember them praying with me out loud during the frantic ride. I remember the ER doctors and nurses who calmly but urgently did everything they could until they quietly informed us he could not be saved. I remember the entire ER going silent for a moment. I remember the hospital giving us all the time we needed to stay by Connor’s side, holding him, until it was time to let him go. I remember compassion. I remember humanity.
Watching Episode 2 of The Pitt brought the entire experience back to my mind’s eye with a rush of emotion so strong it made me dizzy. In it a mother learns her son is brain dead and she unleashes a sound so raw, so desperate, so familiar to me that I said out loud. “I know that scream. That’s mine.” Everyone in the ER looks at each other, and you can feel the weight of the moment. I now hold more of an appreciation for the impact that day must have had on all the humans who cared for our family that day.
It’s not often that I share these very personal details. Why now and via this medium? Because I believe sharing and showing humanity creates more humanity. After our Peanut died, we observed our friends and family loving each other a little harder, with more intention. That impact began to spread throughout our community and beyond. We still refer to it as The Peanut Effect. That’s my purpose here. Don’t be afraid to share your humanity with your families, friends, teams, co-workers, and communities. Share with care and kindness.
