We live in a society that constantly feeds us the idea that life is “all about me”—me, me, me, me, me.  We have entertainment, advertisements, music, clothing, and everyday products that declare, “It’s all about me!” encouraging us to live our lives in a manner that makes our own self-interest of utmost importance. We’re being

It’s impossible to live in the depths of my pain all the time.  I wouldn’t survive.  I wouldn’t make it.  It is too heavy and would crush me. The loss of my sweet Jud Bud continues to loom constantly, but the intense, insufferable anguish ebbs and flows.  I have times where I am functioning well

Periodically on Facebook there are fun “games” that make the rounds and right now people are posting 25 random facts about themselves.  I posted mine on Facebook last night and also thought I’d post them here.  So here’s a peek into the “miscellaneous drawer” of my life: 1. I still have a baby tooth and

We live in a culture that has little to no tolerance for pain.  At the slightest tinge of a physical ache, we immediately pop a pill or find some other means to minimize or eradicate the hurt.  I get pretty severe migraine headaches that lead to nausea and vomiting.  However, if I take pain medication

Zoe, a beautiful baby girl I have come to know and love (electronically) died today of Krabbe disease.  Sabrina and Peter, her parents, have had the horrendous experience of waiting, and watching their precious daughter slowly die these last several months, each breath wondering if it will be her last.  Then it happened, her last

Anyone who has called me in the last year and a half and had to leave a voicemail notification has likely heard my outgoing message that has not been changed in almost two years.  What many do not know or realize, is that the voice at the end is my boy—my beautiful, beautiful boy who

I’ve never been much of a fan of road trips.  I know there are many who adore lengthy, prolonged treks in the car, but just the idea of taking hours in a vehicle as a means to arriving at a desired destination feels like drudgery to me. This speaks to a prevalent trait in my

I used to kiss the soft, young lips of my boy.  Now I kiss the flat paper image of his smile. I used to hug the youthful vibrant body of my boy.  Now I hug an 11×16 frame that displays his face. My tears used to drip onto the supple spotless skin of my boy