We were trading “you guys” for “y’all”. Mountains for beaches. Long winters for humid summers. Familiarity for the unknown. We would either love it, or move back in a year. According to our parents “You and Patrick can go anywhere, but the grandkids stay!” Colorado is no longer ‘home’ for us. The day the moving truck drove away with all…
The timing of the hard questions never feels right; the ones about blindness or being different. While I strive to be open and approachable to Logan, her questions often catch me off-guard. I hope I have the ‘right’ answers, but mostly just try to reply with gentleness, truth and a calm, reassuring love. But when I’m reading to her at…
I was recently reminded by Facebook about a picture of our daughter, Logan, spending time in her ‘box’. The throwback photo brought back many emotional memories, reminding me of a time when we were held captive by Logan’s diagnosis of Aniridia and her visual and sensory limitations. When Logan was an infant, she didn’t know how to process the world…
A couple of days ago, one of our daughter’s best friends noticed the scars on my shoulder and front of my arm. I saw her eyes fix on me, and hoped to myself that she wouldn’t ask what happened. It isn’t that I mind being asked what happened to my shoulder and arm; I don’t. The problem is that reality…
Breakfast was on the table. Eggs, muffins and bananas. I had woken up early to go running while the kids were still asleep and before Patrick left for work. It was the middle of summer, and once the kids woke up any chance for ‘me’ time would disappear. I was at the kitchen table, sweaty from my run, opening up…
