A celebration and an elegy, Scenes with My Son sensitively renders the terrible privilege of grief in the wake of suicide. After years of battling clinical depression exacerbated by autism, Auggie Hubbard died by suicide at the age of 19. In this poignant tribute to his son, Robert Hubbard—a theatre scholar and actor—stages Auggie’s life in a series of vivid and tender Auggie’s insatiable hunger for Accelerated Reader points. His tireless lightsaber practice in the local park. His sonorous tuba practice in the ward of his inpatient program. Through these anecdotes of Auggie’s life and the days following his death, readers journey with a family shaken by mental illness and share in their hard-won joys in defiance of depression. Refusing easy answers and clichés about “God’s plan,” Hubbard unflinchingly Does faith matter amid such tragedy? What do you do when awareness isn’t enough? When you’ve tried so hard to keep your child safe, but your efforts fail? His honesty and vulnerability—and his tender portrait of Auggie—are gifts to all who live with their own questions in the wake of a loved one’s death.
Robert Hubbard has taught in the Department of Theatre Northwestern College since 2002. Before moving to Orange City, he served as the Director of Theatre at Calvin College. Awarded an O’Neill Critics Fellowship in 2005, Hubbard regularly publishes articles and reviews in popular and academic publications. In 2015, Minot State University, Hubbard’s undergraduate alma mater, inducted him into its Academic Hall of Fame. A veteran solo performer, Hubbard regularly performs his original solo shows at fringe festivals and colleges across the country. He is the author of two books: Grace Notes: Stories of Surprise, Regret and Redemption and Scenes with My Son: Love and Grief in the Wake of Suicide.
This book was unputdownable. And I know it is one that will stick with me. I read it in a day, and stayed up until 1am reading (which says a lot for this tired mom of young children who highly values her sleep). I was hesitant to read this book, as I have a son with autism, and the main character, precious Auggie, also on the autism spectrum, dies by suicide. But my mom (not a reader) read it and recommended it to me, so I cracked it open and couldn’t stop reading. How beautiful is this father’s love for son. How admirable is this mother’s fierce advocacy. What a wonderful team this mother and father are. Two parts that especially struck me. First, in the chapter On ECT and Rainbows, author Robert Hubbard shares his evolution of sign seeking, when he sees a beautiful rainbow after a particularly hard visit with his son in an inpatient psychiatric hospital. He writes that his faith sustains him in the valley of the shadow of death. “I hesitate to say through it, because that suggests that there is a way out that I can’t assume. But this glorious rainbow reminds me that beauty still exists around us, and that, more than ever, I need to witness it.” Second, in the epilogue, “Practice extravagant kindness to the outsiders and marginalized souls among us.” Yes. Let this be my mantra in work, at home, in life. I will write this down and look at it often and remember and strive to live this out. Finally, I must say that The All-State Redemption was my favorite chapter, and will stick with me for a long time. This chapter felt like a punch in the gut, and turned into cheering in gratitude for this hard won success for this precious boy, and his precious parents.
A wonderfully written tribute to the life of his son, Auggie. Their familial love for each other and fight against clinical depression is evident. I live in the same town as the Hubbard’s and knew of their struggles as I was battling the same. While the many mental health treatments they tried didn’t work fast or fully enough to save Auggie, this book gives me extra motivation to keep battling my mental illnesses. And to hopefully help some others out on the way.
I was able to attend Dr. Hubbard’s first book discussion. A theater professor, his artistic ability and way of seeing the world was on display. His application of his talents to give tribute the life of his son was beautiful to witness.
I highly recommended this book to anyone! It’s a powerful look into the horrors mental illness can create. Yet the attempt to look for love, beauty, and hope in the midst of this pain.
I found it difficult to approach this book knowing the contents, and yet I also felt drawn to it. I finished it over the course of two nights, finding it next to impossible to set down. What a piece. Auggie's presence on the pages, and the presence of his entire family, is so real, and robust, and magical. The tragedy of this book is hard to consume; yet, I think by doing so, I've learned about the beauty and humor and gut-wrenching pain of life as Auggie experienced it. That has made no small impact on my heart.
Scenes with my Son is a piece of truthful art I don't believe I could read again—but it's something I'll never forget, and something I believe most people would do well to experience. Thank you to Robert Hubbard and family for revealing to readers something so naked and vulnerable. The love is so overwhelmingly there.
I finished reading “Scenes with My Son” a couple days ago, and it is been in my thoughts since then. I needed some time before writing this. The book is truly is a love story for a son. Both beautiful and heartbreaking, it enlightened me to family dynamics I couldn’t fathom otherwise. I have not experienced clinical depression in my family, thankfully, yet here we see a family battle it for the sake of several family members. Ultimately, I too felt the love for this special boy, Auggie, and the book is clear evidence of the love the family had and has for their dear son. This book should not be missed.
In the foreword to “Scenes with My Son” Nicholas Wolterstorff writes that this memoir will be “a spiritual and emotional balm” for those who have lost a child to suicide or have a child that struggles with clinical depression. As a daughter, sister, and best friend to individuals who daily fight this monster I could not agree more. In his memoir, Robert Hubbard, or Dr. Bob as I and many other students know him, writes with gut wrenching honesty, grace, and always, always love for his son Auggie. I highly, highly recommend.
In some quarters of the Christian community, suicide has been seen as sin. Such a view is unfortunate. People take their lives for many different reasons, but most often it is rooted in mental health issues, especially clinical depression. Families who deal with mental health concerns often live with the possibility that their loved ones could take their own lives. If it happens it leads to much grief and even self-incrimination. At the same time, in our churches suicide still has a certain stigma that can lead to even more grief for families as they fail to find support from their church family. It is time that we lift the stigma and have a conversation about mental health and suicide that can be healing.
When the review copy of "Scenes with My Son" arrived I placed it on my review stack and shied away from reading it. It's not that I have embraced the stigmatization of suicide. I knew that the story of suicide would be filled with sadness, and we tend to shy away from such things, especially when we have family members who experience depression. In any case, I picked it up and began to read Robert Hubbard's story of his son, who took his life at the age of nineteen, after dealing with severe clinical depression since early in his teen years. In the end, I am glad I read this book, and I highly recommend it, especially to clergy. It is a deeply moving story of a father's attempt to deal with the reality of the death of his bright, talented, and troubled son.
The author of "Scenes with My Son," is Robert Hubbard, a professor of theatre at Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa. He is the father of three sons, the youngest of whom is the son who took his life early in his sophomore year of college. The subtitle of the book summarizes what we find as we read, for we discover the presence of love and grief that are laid out for us in the "Wake of Suicide." As Nicholas Wolterstorff writes in his Foreword, "For a parent to undergo the death of a child by suicide is beyond terrible. Intertwined with grief there are now self-lacerating feelings of guilt and failure." A parent is wracked with questions as to why and what could have been done. (p. ix). Nevertheless, in this book, Wolterstorff notes that "those who have experienced the death of a child by suicide will experience a spiritual and emotional balm in finding a soulmate who shares their kind of grief and guilt. Those who live with a child struggling with depression will likewise experience the balm of solidarity. And for the rest of us: we will be inspired by the example of a young life of boundless intensity and by the example of a father's love that matched that intensity" (p. x). Wherever we find ourselves on this spectrum, we will find a story that inspires and heals.
In his prologue to the book, Hubbard tells us that this is the story of a nineteen-year-old young man whose struggle with depression over nearly five years led to his death. That Hubbard could write this is an amazing testimony to a sense of grace that allowed him to share a story that will inspire, encourage, and hopefully bring healing to the lives of some who face the same reality. If you are like me, as you read this story you will find yourself in tears. He wrote this because he was encouraged to tell his story so that others might find encouragement. As for Hubbard, he writes that he "never planned to write this book until I wrote it. I never thought I could but it turns out I had to. For Auggie, and hopefully, for others." (p. xv). Auggie (short for August) is the one whose life and death are laid out in this book.
A theater professor, Hubbard divides the book into three acts: Act I is titled "Beautiful Boy." It is the story of Auggie's early years and his intensity about everything. Act II: "The Family Monster" tells the story that begins with the diagnosis of clinical depression and high-functioning autism in his high school years. It needs to be noted that his older brother, George, the middle son, also experienced clinical depression. It is a reality that the two sons shared with their mother, April. Only the oldest son, Charlie, did not experience clinical depression. Then Act II is titled "The Life After," which takes us from his death through how the family dealt with this significant loss.
While the book is organized according to these three acts, Hubbard tells the story of his son and his family, and how they experienced life together before and after Auggie's tragic death, through vignettes, each three to four pages in length. As we read we discover a boy who becomes a young man who is sensitive to others but often finds himself distanced from others. He loves football, Star Wars, and music. He becomes a talented tuba player. He struggles with faith issues, even as his family is deeply spiritual. He will embrace his family's faith, but it takes time. After his diagnosis, he spent much time in therapy and tried a variety of medications, but nothing helped. He spent time in inpatient care due to suicidal ideations. You might say that Auggie is troubled but he's much more than that. As we read, we want to root for him. We want him to succeed in life, to fulfill his potential. We know this is the story of suicide, but we want a different ending. But then that is the desire of the parents and family as well.
It is difficult to write a review of a book like this. You have to read it to understand. I can only say that your heart will break for Auggie and his parents. You will, as Nicholas Wolterstorff notes, see the grief and the sense of self-doubt that the parents experience as they ask the question "If only." While there is much sadness in this story, there is also hope. Yes, Hubbard and his wife struggle with their faith. He shares the anger that both he and his wife expressed toward God. He addresses the attempts made by well-meaning people who offer platitudes. He prayed mightily for his son that he might find peace and healing. Yet God did not act as he hoped. He takes comfort in the image of Jesus weeping for Lazarus, imagining Jesus weeping for Auggie. While he acknowledges that good things emerged from his son's death, he would gladly trade all the good to have his son back. In the end, Robert Hubbard wants us to celebrate Auggie's intense commitment to life. In the Epilogue he invites us to ask the question: What would Auggie do?" He writes that his son would find this question hilarious, and yet he writes: "As I mourn his death, I am learning what his life has to teach me." (p. 183). Might that be true of us as well.
This book took me a long time to read. Not because of the heavy subject matter, nor was the book lengthy, and the writing was eloquently executed. But I needed the time to sit with it and process it as a parent. I met this author when I was young. Reading about his family made me feel connected to him even more now as an adult. It made me sit in reflection of my own children's childhoods and things they are currently facing, activities we participate in together and how I have introduced things to them that they ran with and can do better than me. I appreciate Bob sharing his story, his words poetic at times, and I will continue to think about his family as the grief never ends. It just changes forms. This book is for everyone.
I’ve known grief, the kind that seems all-consuming. The kind that makes you want to yell and scream and cry. But I’ve never lost a child to death. Bob’s book helps his readers understand some of the pain and experience some of the hardship of the moments, days, and years following a loved one’s death by suicide.
This is an important book. This topic should be discussed rather than buried under the rug or held captive in rooms that do not change even though everything else around them does. I’m grateful that Bob chose to be open about his feelings, feelings that are brought to life beautifully in "Scenes with My Son." (This is taken from a longer post I wrote about this book on Substack.)
Beautiful tribute to a son gone far too young. I originally picked this book up because I work with children with autism. I, of course, want to learn as much as I can to help my own clients. I have to say I immediately adored Auggie! His father shared things about Auggie that made me just love him as he was! I think the book a very brave memoir to share pieces of your son and pieces of your own grief at his loss. I will try to practice extravagant kindness in Auggie honor. Thank you for sharing such a personal story, being brave enough to write it, and teaching lessons along the way!
Thank you to NetGalley for the copy of the book and the publisher for granting me access to such a good book.
This book is not only a love letter to a beautiful, beloved son, but a vivid, raw, honest depiction of clinical depression. All the cliche words are not adequate to describe this story of Auggie's life or the courage it took to write it. To Bob and April, your love, patience, and perseverance in the face of this devastating disease humbles me. Thank you for showing us the bright light of the real Auggie whose very nature was separate from the darkness that claimed him. All of you are heroes.
What a beautiful book. I took one class with the author over 10 years ago and know the setting well, but I think even if I did not have that personal connection I would love this because of the beautiful story telling. It’s a tribute to Auggie, and an honest reflection on his life and death. I highly recommend it.
I don’t think I’ve sobbed so hard over a book before. Robert Hubbard’s Scenes with My Son is a touching, raw, reflective memoir of the life of Robert’s son, Auggie, who died from suicide at the age of nineteen. This is a not a memoir of death, or a memoir of grief in the aftermath of death—though there are those elements. This is a memoir of life. Hubbard memorializes his son through a series of authentic and captivating vignettes that all build up to where we all know the story is going. Life is story. Every story deserves to be told. And by telling Auggie’s story in this way, Hubbard draws readers into the story and we feel—however faint in comparison—the discombobulating suddenness with which the story finds its conclusion.
Writing can be cathartic. I think that’s probably the number one reason Hubbard wrote Scenes with My Son. When you’re a writer, a storyteller, then how you process life is through stories. By telling the story, you unlock it from within yourself. I can’t even imagine how difficult some parts of this book were to write. Perhaps that is made evident when Hubbard turns to quoting old Facebook posts, made in the aftermath of Auggie’s death, to tell the story. Yet, most of the book must have been a joy. Scenes with My Son is just that: scenes from Auggie’s life that allow the reader to get to know Auggie as a person—a deeply complex person whose passions and struggles, whose idealism and moral center, whose joys and sorrows are strong, unyielding, and unwavering.
You also get the perspective of a loving parent struggling to walk with their child through mental illness, caring for them and loving them even when it is hard. This is Auggie’s story, but Robert’s story about being a parent to an autistic teenager with depressive moods and occasional violent outbursts is compelling as well. Scenes with My Son doesn’t portray Hubbard in an idealistic fashion; nor is it full of Hubbard second-guessing his parenting choices. It’s a vulnerable and honest story of a dad simply trying his best to love his son. As the father—as a father of an autistic son who shares Auggie’s name—this book absolutely broke me.
Scenes with My Son offers solidarity for those that have been there. In a back cover endorsement, Kay Warren—cofounder of Saddleback Church with her husband Rick—writes about how this book made her relive her own son’s struggle with mental illness that ended in suicide. Yet, that reliving is not one that harms, but heals. By telling his story, Hubbard encourages others who have undergone similar losses to remember. And though reliving some of those memories are painful, it also spurs a re-living of the one who has been lost—and the joys outweigh the sadness.
This is a powerful book. I am honored to know Auggie and his story in this small but significant way and I am thankful to Robert Hubbard for sharing his son with all of us. Auggie’s story is one worthy of remembrance. Scenes with My Son is a touching remembrance from a loving father.
"Scenes With My Son" by Robert Hubbard is a gift of love for the son he lost to suicide. Hubbard's vivid and almost poetic writing includes his family struggles with Auggie's illness. But love for him never wavered. Love is the underlying principal in the telling Auggie's story, his joyful childhood, his sense of humor and his love for reading. Love is the underpinning for everything involving Auggie, even when puberty hit, and his illness began. Auggie's story includes his genius for drawing, genius music, playing seven instruments, and his depth of understanding of the suffering of others. Auggie's parents did everything possible including admitting him three times in a hospital for psychiatric treatment and years of counseling. But their loss was only the beginning. Hubbard vividly includes the aftermath of grief, regret, and blaming as he and wife April painfully moved towards healing.
Through honest accounts of the joys and challenges of being Auggie's dad, Robert Hubbard helps us understand (or at least begin to) what it's like to walk through the valley of a child's severe depression and eventual suicide. I found this set of essays not just an emotional but a compelling read--I read it in a matter of days. The collection is a tribute to Auggie's life and an invitation to readers for how to live our own.
A father’s beautiful, devastating tribute to a son whose struggle with depression ultimately took his life. Raw and poetic and well-crafted. I hope it will reach many more readers and that it will inform and comfort those seeking to understand depression and navigating grief. I knew it would be a heavy read, but I am so grateful to have read it and learned about Auggie’s life.