I don’t know what the inner space of your mind looks like, but mine is full of shelves, each holding file boxes full of memories. Two nights ago, I went to taking box lids off and flipping through the folders, searching for a moment when I was a 24 year old mother of two young... Continue Reading →
I whispered into the stillness of his slumber, “I wanted to grow old with you.”, as hot liquid poured down my cheeks. Blazing liquid sorrow. You'd think the tears would run cold by now. They do not. The pain of loss to come digs deeper in as the time goes on with him living dying.... Continue Reading →
We drove through the storm late last night-me behind the wheel, my Abram in the back seat, delirious with fever, vomiting uncontrollably into the bright blue emesis bag I purchased in bulk when Jesse underwent chemo and radiation-our tires steadily kicking water out beside us as we barreled down the massive 11 lane highway we... Continue Reading →
No one can really know what a life is like unless they are living it. I try to convey hard moments in this writing place, attempt to communicate facets of all of this with clarity and truth and a kind of vulnerability I am resistant in nature to display. Christ’s work in me, these words... Continue Reading →
I was getting ready to post the above photo on Instagram, citing our third born’s quirky attachment to his shoes long after the soles have worn through so much that his feet touch the ground as he walks. But the more I stared at the photo, the more his dirty toes sticking out from tattered... Continue Reading →
In the stillness of early morning, with darkness still overwhelming the room, I awakened from a shallow doze in a fit of coughing and sat up, bleary eyes focusing on the thin stream of golden light gently permeating the space between our bathroom door and the floor. A shadow moved across the dim brightness, the... Continue Reading →
Jesse is having brain surgery tomorrow. Again. This will be the third time someone has accessed and manipulated the fragile contents of his skull. I wish I could tell you that we’ve developed some sort of immunity to the fear and anxiety that accompanies these procedures, having done it twice before, but we haven’t. Sleep... Continue Reading →
For months now, I’ve been searching for a word or phrase or image that could be hung above the door frame in our bedroom over the spot where Jesse says he opened his eyes to find everything was different all those months ago, something to replace a symbol of fear with a reminder of Hope. ... Continue Reading →
“I am not okay! I AM NOT FREAKING OKAY!!”, he shouts with voice strained from guttural weeping, tapping hands on ears, curled into an upright fetal position, never losing his pace in his rocking. "I...I...I...I...don't...want...to...*gasp*...live...this...way...any...more. Why?..Why won't He?...Why won't He...take...me home?…He wants…me…here…His story, right? His story, babe…” If ever you find yourself wondering why the... Continue Reading →
I haven't rested well the past few nights for the wondering. Benign phrases to the general population cut into my core like a knife dipped in acid, causing the seething, searing, nerve-disintegrating pain that comes with an awakening of awareness. I'm disabled. Did you know that? A lot of people who find themselves on this... Continue Reading →
Every Little Jot & Tittle 