It changed the shape of his face for a while, and he started to get really fat." In addition to these treatments, Mark mentions that Brian's dizzy spells are a source of embarrassment for him.

Every character reflects on their lives before their illnesses. Whether they are patients or family members, these memories connect them to normalcy, happier times, and their loved ones. These recollections often help reduce tension and conflict during interactions. For Maggie and Joe, the cherished memories of their life together serve as a balm, soothing the harsh reality of the present. These shared experiences provide stability and comfort, offering moments of calm during challenging discussions about Joe’s condition.

It is unclear whether Felicity is suffering from dementia or is in denial about her daughter's death. Agnes, another daughter who is also a caregiver, insists that the memory of Claire "keeps [Felicity] going," explaining to the interviewer, "It means so much to [Felicity]... It's something to hope for. You have to have something. People need something to keep them going." Claire represents an unbroken bond between mother and daughter, untouched by illness. By denying Claire's death, Felicity also denies the passage of time and, consequently, the inevitability of death.

Memories often lead to profound insights. Brian recalls asking a doctor why he was trembling so much but receiving no satisfying answer. This moment triggers a childhood memory of being separated from his father on a train to Coney Island. He tells Mark that when he tried to ask for directions, he "couldn’t talk because he was shaking so badly... because he was frightened." He realizes that he "shakes now" for the same reason—he is afraid, afraid of dying.

Contemplating one's life and accomplishments is a common response when confronted with a terminal illness. The things not said or done gain significant importance for several characters throughout the play. They all experience regrets, ranging from deep disappointment to sadness or yearning for unfinished or unspoken matters.

As the play approaches its end, Joe shares with Maggie that owning a house represented something tangible, a symbol of life, a place where he could "put in one more... tree... fix up another room... see grandchildren," living in anticipation. Joe feels a profound sense of loss and yearning for missed chances, taken away by the financial burdens of illness. He also expresses his frustration with the finality of his situation: "one day, somebody walks up and tells you it’s finished. And me... all I can say is ‘what’... what’s finished?’"

Brian faces his own mortality by trying to avoid regret through personal achievements. He tells Beverly that when he realized he was dying, he recognized "there was a lot to do that I hadn’t done yet." Brian seeks to outsmart death, declaring, "the only way to beat this thing is to leave absolutely nothing behind." He intends to accomplish this by ensuring that nothing is left "unsaid, undone," desiring even his most "obscure, silly, worthless thoughts" to be expressed in some form.

When discussing The Shadow Box, many might assume it is a play consumed by the theme of death, as it revolves around three terminally ill patients. However, playwright Michael Cristofer intentionally omits specifics about the illnesses affecting his characters. This deliberate choice shifts the focus away from the diseases themselves and centers it instead on the broader spectrum of human experiences and emotions. While the narrative certainly includes conversations about the emotions and realities surrounding death, it predominantly explores the vibrant, poignant aspects of life itself. Through dialogue, the characters navigate their existence, ultimately highlighting the profound joy found in living, even when confronted by the inevitability of dying.

The title of the play serves as a metaphorical lens through which its themes are explored. A shadow box, traditionally a picture frame with a recessed box, allows objects to cast shadows that are displayed for observation. In The Shadow Box, the patients become akin to these objects, positioned not only for the scrutiny of the doctors but also for the audience, who witness their struggles and experiences. The setting within an experimental program is a backdrop rather than a focal point, as emphasis remains on the interpersonal dynamics and emotional responses of the families involved. By rendering the doctor as merely a faceless voice, Cristofer cleverly shifts the narrative’s center to highlight the poignant journey of each family confronting the process of dying.

The closing scenes of the play bring its core message to life, underscoring the profound importance of cherishing every moment. In an evocative declaration, Brian, one of the characters, encapsulates this sentiment: "They tell you you're dying, and you say all right. But if I am dying . . . I must still be alive." His words capture the essence of the production, which, while undeniably tinged with sadness, never succumbs to despair. Instead, it vibrates with a relentless affirmation of the vitality and beauty inherent in life.

As the narrative unfolds, the characters, each facing their own mortality, continually celebrate the preciousness of existence. Their journey is punctuated by an antiphonal chant that reverberates with a powerful message to the audience: "This living. This life. This lifetime. This air. This earth. This smile. This pain. It doesn’t last forever. It was never supposed to last forever. This breath. Yes. Yes. Yes. This moment," is the only certainty we possess. Through these words, the play invites viewers to embrace the fleeting nature of life, urging them to find joy in the transient beauty of each breath and experience.