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

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