After a lawnmower accident resulted in the amputation of his left foot, Keirsten Marsico’s little son Joey consoled her by telling her that everything will be alright.
“I was crying naturally when he came out of surgery that night, and he just held my head and said, ‘Mommy, what’s wrong?’” Marsico told PEOPLE his story. “I told him, buddy, I’m really sad.”
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Joey, who was only a few weeks away from turning four, was watching his grandfather Mark DeLuca mow the lawn outside their Whitehall, New York, home on Thursday, May 9, when he made a snap decision that put him in danger.
Keirsten talked about her “active little boy,” the youngest of her two children, saying that “he really loves tractors and enjoys helping with the lawn.” “He approached my dad, who was riding the lawnmower, from behind. My dad threw the mower in reverse before my mom could get to him, and everything happened all at once,” she remembered. “The events that led to what happened were a series of events.”
“It’s been tough on all of us, especially my parents who feel absolutely awful,” Keirsten continues. Specifically, my dad is distraught.
The family believes that Mark DeLuca’s quick use of a tourniquet probably saved Joey’s life. After being transported to Boston Children’s Hospital, Joey had many foot procedures before it was decided to amputate.
Despite the difficulties in his recuperation, Joey’s maturity and upbeat attitude have astounded his family and friends, as well as his caregivers and physicians.
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“What a strong little guy,” Keirsten says. At times, conversing with him is like to conversing with a teenager. He has excellent adjustment.
Joey’s father, Joseph, remarks, “He’s always been that way—very understanding, perceptive of people’s emotions, and adept at coping with situations.” Joseph is reflecting on his son’s exceptional maturity. In addition, he speaks a lot and has a vocabulary that is above average for his age.
The Marsicos, along with their autistic 6-year-old daughter Gianna, settled into a new routine during Joey’s almost month-long hospital stay.
“We tried to maintain a sense of normalcy for my daughter because she attends school,” Keirsten says. “My spouse and I decided that one of us should stay at home with her because she needs routine.”
Joseph stayed stubbornly by Joey’s side, while Keirsten stayed at home. “He’s still by Joey’s side,” Keirsten underlines.
Keirsten reflects on a touching incident by saying, “The other day, as I was leaving Joey, I was crying, and he consoled me again.” I told him it was okay and that I didn’t have to be sad as he wiped away my tears. “I know, but I don’t like leaving you,” I said to him.
The Marsicos take comfort in the knowledge that Joey’s accident was a terrible exception and in their Catholic faith.
“My worst fear is that people will hear this story and think, ‘Why weren’t they watching him?’ or ‘How could they let this happen?’” admits Keirsten, expressing her deepest concern. As his mother, I’ve struggled with it.
She does, however, take solace in her faith, thinking that Joey’s experiences have a greater meaning. “I have to constantly tell myself that everything is happening for a reason. Even if we can’t see it now, God has a plan for him, Keirsten says.
She says, “I would tell someone else it’s an accident if they were in our shoes.” “Accidents happen, and focusing on ‘why’ won’t help—it will only make you feel bad about yourself.”
Keirsten highlights how resilient their family has been in the face of hardship. “We must change and get over what is going on. Our priorities are helping Joey and continuing to be a solid family unit.
After being away from home for almost a month following the accident, Joey was released from the hospital on June 5. Earlier last week, he had his fourth birthday celebration.
His parents are hopeful that he will heal and that he will soon get a prosthetic fitted. They are in awe of Joey’s capacity to communicate his emotions and offer consolation to others during this trying time.
Warmly, Joseph says, “He’s always been such a special little boy.”
At 58, I Found Love Again, but His Ex-wife Was Hell-Bent on Ruining Our Happiness — Story of the Day
At 58, I thought love had passed me by until I met Oliver. Just as our happiness began to bloom, his ex-wife stormed back into his life, determined to tear us apart. What followed was a battle for peace and the strength to overcome the shadows of the past. Could love conquer all?
“Another quiet morning,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window at the ocean. The waves rolled in gently, and the breeze carried that familiar, salty scent.
It had been years since my divorce, and I had gotten used to the solitude.
“I don’t need anyone,” I would often remind myself, my fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.
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My novels had taken off once I fully committed to writing. The quiet house, with only the sound of seagulls and the ocean, gave me the peace I thought I needed.
But every so often, I’d find myself staring out at the horizon, thinking.
Is this really enough?
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It wasn’t until Oliver showed up that I realized the answer might be no.
One morning, as I sipped my coffee on the porch, I noticed him for the first time. A tall, charming man, maybe a few years younger than me, strolling along the beach with his golden retriever. I watched as they passed by my house.
“Morning,” he called out, tipping his head with a friendly smile.
“Good morning,” I replied, feeling a little shy.
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Each day after that, I found myself looking out for him. I would watch as he walked along the beach, sometimes playing with his dog, sometimes just staring out at the sea. And each time, my heart would skip a beat.
“Why am I so nervous?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. “It’s just a neighbor. Calm down.”
But I couldn’t. And my feelings grew stronger every time I saw him. Still, I hesitated.
Is it possible to open up to someone again?
One afternoon, while I was trimming my roses, I heard a rustling sound and a loud thud behind me.
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Startled, I turned to see a golden blur darting into my garden.
“Charlie! Get back here!” I heard Oliver call, and seconds later, he appeared, breathless and apologetic.
“I’m so sorry! He just got away from me.”
I laughed, bending down to pet the dog.
“It’s alright. He’s cute.”
“He’s a handful, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”
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“Do you… enjoy reading?” I asked, my voice tentative, hoping to keep the conversation alive.
Oliver chuckled. “I’m a writer. It comes with the territory.”
“We are colleagues!” My eyes lit up. “I’m a novelist too.”
We talked about our favorite books, about writing, and soon enough, the conversation flowed easily.
“You know,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t usually do this, but… would you like to have dinner sometime?”
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Oliver raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased.
“I’d love to.”
Just like that, the plan was set.
***
The next evening was perfect. We laughed and shared stories. Maybe this is what I’ve been missing all along. But just as I started to relax, a woman appeared at our table. Her eyes were hard, and she looked straight at Oliver.
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“We need to talk. Now,” she demanded, completely ignoring me.
“Excuse me, we’re in the middle of…” I started.
“Not now,” she snapped, her eyes never even glancing in my direction. It was as if I didn’t exist.
I felt my face flush, my words stuck in my throat. Oliver looked flustered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
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“I’m sorry, Haley,” he muttered, standing up awkwardly. “I have to go.”
I watched, speechless, as he followed her out, leaving me sitting there, feeling invisible. The chatter of the restaurant buzzed around me, but I was numb, frozen in place.
The empty chair across from me seemed like a reflection of how abandoned I felt.
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***
Two days had passed since that awkward dinner, and Oliver still hadn’t called. The silence weighed on me more than I wanted to admit. I felt hurt, confused, and, honestly, a little humiliated.
My mind kept replaying the scene, the way he left without a proper explanation, the way that woman had dismissed me as if I didn’t matter.
I sat at my desk, trying to focus on my writing, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to that night.
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Had I made a mistake inviting him? Was he just playing with me? Who was that woman? And why did he leave with her without even a real explanation?
I was about to give up and close my laptop when I heard a knock at the door. My heart raced as I stood up, part of me hoping, and part of me dreading what might come next.
When I opened the door, Oliver was standing on my doorstep with flowers in his hand.
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I stared at him, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry, Haley,” he began.
“That woman from the other night… She’s my ex-wife, Rebecca. She shows up like that sometimes, trying to stir things up and ruin my relationships. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I had to leave with her.”
I tried to mask my emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that then?”
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“I panicked. I should have explained. I’m sorry.”
He paused, offering the flowers.
“I want to make it up to you. I have a literary event coming up. Will you come? It’ll be quieter, and maybe we can spend some time together.”
I hesitated a bit but then nodded.
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***
I had dressed carefully, hoping for a peaceful evening, a chance to talk to Oliver without interruptions. Maybe, tonight will be different.
Oliver greeted me with a warm smile. “I’m glad you came.”
I smiled back, trying to push aside the unease I still felt.
The evening started well. Oliver’s presentation was engaging. For a while, I forgot about everything that had happened.
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But just as I began to feel at ease, the mood in the room shifted.
I saw the same woman from that night at the restaurant. Rebecca. She strode in with a determined look on her face, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Oliver. My stomach dropped.
Without hesitation, she marched over to where Oliver and I stood.
“You thought you could just move on, didn’t you, Oliver?” she spat, glaring at him.
The room grew quiet, and all eyes were on us.
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“Rebecca, this isn’t the time or place.”
Oliver took a step toward her, trying to calm her down, but it only made things worse.
“Time or place? How dare you?” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’re a liar and a cheat! You think you can just forget about everything we had? You think you can walk away from me?”
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People began to whisper, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama.
Rebecca’s eyes turned to me then.
“And you,” she said, her voice dripping with venom, “you’re just another one of his mistakes.”
Before I could even respond, she grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table and threw it in my face. The cold liquid soaked my hair and dress.
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Gasps filled the room. For a second, I just stood there, too humiliated to move. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and all I wanted to do was disappear.
Security rushed in and quickly escorted Rebecca out, but the damage was already done.
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I felt small and exposed. The warmth I had felt earlier was gone, replaced by a crushing sense of shame. I wiped my face and looked at Oliver, who stood there, silent and torn.
“What is going on, Oliver? Why is she doing this? And what aren’t you telling me?”
Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I… I haven’t told you everything,” he admitted, his eyes full of regret.
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“Rebecca and I have been separated for a while, but during that time, I had an affair. It was a mistake, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Then Rebecca came back into my life and took control. She managed everything. My finances. My schedule. She used my guilt to keep me trapped.”
I felt a heavy weight settle over me and realized how deep that mess went.
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“I’ve been trying to leave her for good, but she refuses to let go,” he continued. “I didn’t want to drag you into all of this.”
“I don’t think I can do this, Oliver,” I whispered. “I’m not ready for this kind of drama in my life.”
Without waiting for his response, I turned and walked out, the cool evening air hitting my face as I stepped outside.
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***
Several days had passed since the disastrous evening at the literary event, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Oliver. Despite everything that had happened, I missed him.
I tried to push the feelings away, to convince myself that walking out had been the right choice, but the ache of missing him wouldn’t fade.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window, a flicker of movement caught my eye. It was at Oliver’s house. I watched as Rebecca hurried back and forth, swiftly loading boxes into a car.
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Is he moving out? Why is she here?
I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I had to tell him that he needed to be stronger, to stand up for himself, and to stop letting people like Rebecca control his life.
Summoning my courage, I stepped outside and made my way toward his house.
But as I approached, something felt different. Oliver’s car pulled up, and when he stepped out, there was a calm, resolute look on his face—one I hadn’t seen before. I hesitated, keeping my distance, watching as he walked straight to Rebecca.
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“It’s over, Rebecca,” I heard him say. “Take the money, take the house—whatever you want. But you will not interfere in my life anymore.”
Rebecca froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am,” he said, his voice unwavering. “If you don’t respect that, I’ll file a restraining order. This ends today.”
I stood there, shocked. That was a side of Oliver I had never seen.
At that moment, I knew. He had finally taken control of his life, and that was exactly what I needed to see.
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