My 25th birthday is three days away. Today, I push my Dad in a wheelchair and we meet with a gastrointestinal surgeon; he steps on a scale. He has lost 20 pounds in 20 days. We go into the office together. I sit on the table, Jim in his wheelchair, and Ab in the office…
Tag: For Jim
Magic
I remember being a teenager, eating dinner with my family, and dancing in the kitchen afterwards. My Dad would wash the dishes, my Mom and I would dry them, we’d turn up the radio, she’d be giggling after her evening glass of wine, and we’d dance. Jim would scoop ice cream out of the container…
Neon Lights
I’ve never thought of myself as strong, maybe because no one else ever has, but I also never thought I’d be sitting in a dimly lit grocery store parking lot three weeks before Christmas with my Dad who was just diagnosed with ALS talking about our very short future. We sit, waiting for my Mom…
Mauvais Rêve
Today was not a good day. Sometimes when he leaves early and I get home late I forget the fact that he’s a piece of what he once was, but then I see him. I hear him ask me to help him tie his shoes and see his grey face and his frail body and…
Hudson Valley Dog Mom 