I have recently noted something in my life that seems to indicate subtle movement toward integrating my loss into the everyday framework of my life.  For quite some time I have had a strong abiding need for people with whom I brush shoulders to know of my boy, my pain, and my heartache.  It was

Our little ladybug turned two and a half today.  We commemorate this day because 1/2 birthdays became significant in our family when Judson was born on Christmas Eve.  Our boy must be so proud of his sister; she is quite the little girl. “No, I’m a big girl!” Jessie might pipe in. Here is a

Every mother-son interaction that I have recently stumbled upon has been deeply affecting me.  It doesn’t matter if the son is in his sixties, teens, or infancy, my sorrow thermometer shoots up at the sight of any love and care exhibited in every unique relationship between a mom and her boy. I watch American Idol

One afternoon last week I had the chance to spend a good chunk of alone time in the Fullerton/Brea area where Drake and I used to reside.  We called this area home for over five years; this is also where Judson was born and lived for the first 17 months of his life when he

“You’re so strong!” was the phrase I heard from several people last night after sharing Judson’s story with a large group of women at a church in Whittier.  Each time those words met my ears, my stomach dropped—what an incomplete picture of me! What they do not see on such an evening is my extreme

Judson and Jessie just 2 days before our whirlwind began. Jessie is just 11 days from turning two and a half.  This wouldn’t be notable except that Judson was just 11 days from turning two and a half when our whirlwind with Krabbe disease began (June 13, 2007).  Jessie is the exact age today that

Dear family and friends, Another month has passed, and we have now lived 15 months without Jud.  As I sit here and type this, Drake is across from me with red, swollen eyes after having spent some time watching videos of Judson and letting the emotions flow today.  As to be expected, we miss our