10/01/2026
The view from Larry Jr.'s hospital window.
He's finally out of the ER and in a private room. Hallelujah!
Looking out his window this evening brought on a strange feeling of melancholy. A sadness, a nostalgia, and a longing that's difficult to explain.
In the photos below:
1. The Mott Holden NICU where Larry spent the first six & 1/2 months of his life, from June through December of 2001.
2. Old Mott Children's Hospital, where he spent so much of his life from January 2002 through 2011. Moderate Care, Stable Vent, PICU, PICU 2, and 5 West. See that jungle gym on the roof? We used to take Larry up there when he was inpatient and he was healthy enough to travel around. That floor there was where they would have computers for the parents to use, books to read, and crafts and fun things for the siblings, Larry's five older siblings played up there and I have many crafts and Christmas ornaments that they made. They'd have snacks up there, pizza. It was very nice to get away up there. Coffee in the mornings. There's a chapel up there too. Larry loved that jungle gym.
3. New Mott Children's Hospital, where he spent his time from 2011 through 2024, mostly on 12 East, but also on other floors and in the PICU. Definitely his home away from home. So many team members that we are grateful for.
Looking at those buildings, I realize how much we all miss the people. From his very first NICU nurses to all the wonderful doctors, nurses, and teams at Old Mott and New Mott who cared for him over the years.
You could hardly walk anywhere without hearing someone call out, "Hi, Larry!" It didn't matter what floor we were on or which hallway, which cafeteria, operating rooms, or clinic, the family center, wherever we were walking down. Someone always knew him. And they knew when we were there. They knew our family, his history, his struggles, his personality, and all the little things that made him Larry.
He still gets those wonderful greetings here, especially walking through the cafeteria and hallways, but it's different.
It's a strange thing to miss a hospital when you've spent so much of your life wishing your child didn't have to be there.
Larry says he misses the familiarity. The safety and security. The friendships. And, most of all, the extraordinary love that so many people showered on Larry for so many years. They were more than his medical teams. They became part of our lives, and in many ways, part of our family.
This is his fifth admission here since 1 year ago exactly, and we're learning our way around, getting to know new faces and finding our footing. Everyone has been kind, and I know that with time, new relationships will grow.
But looking out this window today, we feel a little homesick for a place that felt like Larry's home away from home.
