Fisher Williams has never liked running.
“Like, I’ve never done it for my own enjoyment.”
His dad, Brent, probably would have considered that a pretty good reason to run anyway.
Growing up, Brent encouraged Fisher to do the things that felt hard. To challenge himself and try things he might otherwise avoid.
So when Fisher heard that The Children’s Room would be participating in the Falmouth Road Race, he could almost hear his dad:
“I know you might not want to do it because it’s hard, but that sounds like a great reason to do it anyway.”
Fisher signed up.
He was 11 when Brent died suddenly from a heart attack, taking Fisher, his brother, and his mom completely by surprise. His family found their way to The Children’s Room soon after.
Fisher remembers being nervous about sharing his feelings with a group of people he didn’t know. What helped was realizing that no one expected him to.
“Once I got there and realized that no one ever pressured me to share anything I didn’t want to, I felt much more comfortable with talking about my feelings.”
He remembers the punching bag, too.
At the time, Fisher saw TCR as a community of people his age who had experienced something similar. Almost six years since he last attended a group, he sees that connection a little differently.
“If you had asked this question six years ago, I would have said it gave me a community of people my age with similar experiences,” he says. “Now, it has given me not just that but also a way to contribute to something bigger than myself.”
That was part of what made Falmouth meaningful.
Nine years after Brent died, the way Fisher remembers his dad has changed, too.
“I still feel a sadness in my chest when I think about the permanence of his death, but I’ve gotten to a place where I can think and talk about him and smile.”
He especially loves hearing stories about Brent from his mom, family, and his dad’s friends.
“I feel like I’m constantly learning more about him and his life.”
And as Fisher learns more about his dad, some of the things Brent taught him have taken on new meaning.
Like all those laps after practice.
Near the end of the Falmouth Road Race, Fisher’s legs were burning. He wanted badly to walk the rest of the way.
“I kept remembering why I was doing it,” he says. “I owed it to myself, and my dad to finish strong. That’s how he would have wanted me to do it.”
So he kept running.
For Fisher, Falmouth was also a chance to give something back to a place that had once been there when his family needed it.
“The Children’s Room was there for me in a time where everything seemed pretty hopeless, to be honest,” he says. “It means the world to me that I can give back to the place that helped bring me out of that hopelessness, and gave me a reminder that I’m not alone in my experience.”
Before we finished, we asked Fisher what he would tell his 11-year-old self.
He went back to the lessons from his dad:
“All those things dad told you, every time he made you run laps after practice, every time he scolded you, it was all for a reason. Hold on to those memories and use them as a guide for the coming years. Trust me, you’ll need them!”
And then he thought about his brother.
“Your brother may seem annoying, but make sure you keep a close relationship with him. He understands how you feel more than anything, and some day, he’ll become one of your best friends, not just family.”
There are a lot of ways to carry someone with us.
For Fisher, one of them is recognizing, years later, what Brent was trying to teach him.
At Falmouth, that lesson was simple:
Do the hard thing anyway.
And he did.
About This Series: 30 Years, 30 Stories is an ongoing collection of reflections from the community that has shaped The Children’s Room over the past three decades. For 30 years, all of our services have been offered free of charge to grieving children, teens, and families thanks to the generosity of our community. Learn more or support our work at childrensroom.org.