Gustavo and Julian Wensjoe (d. 3/19/2009)

My friend and colleague, Gustavo Wensjoe and his 9-month old son, Julian, died in a horrific car accident last week. Gustavo’s wife, Joann, is the only surviving passenger. She is rumored to be in critical condition in a hospital in Lima, Peru, where the accident happened.

It was less than two years ago when Joann came to the annual party at our house. She was having a grand time listening to the karaoke. She and Gustavo were trying to have a baby, she explained between songs. Gustavo was almost sixty and she wasn’t getting any younger; this was their last chance.

I remember a beaming Gustavo walking into my office later in the fall, to announce that Joann had just completed her first trimester of pregnancy. They’d waited to make the announcement, just to be sure, so many things can go wrong early on. But now she was fine.

- “I’m going to have to work a lot harder,” said Gustavo. “To take care of both of them. I’m going to be an old father you know.  People are going to think I'm this kid's grandfather...”

We kept in touch every few weeks.

Joann was doing fine, Gustavo reported. Then she was on bed rest. Then she was bored. She was impatient. He had so many things he needed to do before the baby came. She drove him crazy, why should women want babies? He was excited. She was excited. They’d picked a name.  He came to ask about medical insurance. he came to talk about retirement funds.  He came to talk about life insurance.  How much would he need to make sure they'd be safe?  He came to tell me the doctor had set the date for the birth.

He came to talk about university budgets but we ended up spending an hour discussing what it took to raise a son these days.  It was our last long conversation.

I didn’t see much of him after the baby was born. I’d changed job, he and Joann were busy raising their newborn.  Everything was fine.

And now this!

I’ve been playing and replaying Gustavo and Julian’s death in my mind. Every time, I go back to the image of Joann, so happy at that party, poised to start her new life with her husband and son.

I hold her in my heart. 

Who will tell her about Gustavo and Julian's death?  How will she ever rise from those ashes?   How will we console her?  Can we?