I don’t like to cry. I refrain from doing it as much as possible. IF a tear escapes, it usually meets a hot and angered cheek before being hastily wiped away. I know crying isn’t a sign of weakness and many find it therapeutic. However, it often makes me feel worse and weaker. I’ve been […]Read more "No Tears Allowed"
For the first time in 15 years, I am relieved of the pressure (finally) to provide a man with a sappy gift that may or may not make him internally cringe. Valentine’s Day is my least favorite holiday and has been since I can remember. It’s probably high up there for most men. Yet I […]Read more "Valentines, Schmalentines"
I don’t even know how to describe my faith. Let me just say it’s hard having faith in something you can’t see or touch when so many tangible things have been taken or lost. I keep it anyway. That’s what makes faith so special. It’s not really a tangible thing. Except when it is. Lately, […]Read more "Faith"
Things are supposed to get easier with time as passing seconds simplify tough situations and the new becomes familiar “Work harder,” “Don’t give up”, and “Withstand,” are a few favorite phrases of mine. They seep into my being so that every struggle becomes an opportunity, and time ticks away making every situation better. Not this […]Read more "As Time Goes By"
I often find that people are generally good. Some more so than others. Take Charlie’s nurse, Sam. Even though Charlie initially screamed in her face and fought ferociously against his temperature being taken, her smile never wavered. She tickled his tiny toes and was brave enough to smell them too! Though he’s generally an amicable […]Read more "Good People"
“Every man dies. Not every man really lives.” – William Wallace, Braveheart Oftentimes, CHD babies are called “blue babies” because deoxygenated blood mixes with oxygenated blood causing a blue hue. No need to explain why they’re called “brave hearts,” but my sister did a good job explaining it here. Just like William Wallace in Braveheart, […]Read more "Camp Brave Heart"
Where do you call home? I’ve called 16 different addresses “home,” but it wasn’t until I lived at 6621 Fannin St. in Houston that I learned the true meaning of home. I knew I’d be living at Texas Children’s Hospital with my son a couple of months ahead of time. The doctors painted an awful […]Read more "Home"