“I was terrified of being locked away if I was honest. When I turned 27, I was convinced that would be the year my body wouldn’t be able to handle the alcohol I was consuming. I became okay with dying. Then, one morning, drinking before work, I had a seizure. I didn’t drop to the ground or convulse. Instead, my hands cramped up. I couldn’t speak. I went to the hospital, but didn’t dare tell doctors.”
“He left me at 10:30 p.m. on a cold Sunday night. You allowed my husband a place to stay, accepting him with open arms. You didn’t say anything to him, knowing he was using drugs. Everyone coddled him. Truth is, you all abandoned me. I was a part of your family for 11 years – and I was written off.”
“He’s like a deer in headlights. He shrugged, and opened his wallet. He didn’t say a word to anyone about what he was doing, just quietly helping out child after child with their Christmas lists for their families. The kids didn’t even know.”
“As the days passed, he couldn’t eat or sleep. Then came the shocking weight loss. This body I once knew was now all bones and sharp edges. I could see his ribs through his t-shirt. ‘We see a large mass,’ the doctor informed us. I cried silent tears. I could no longer touch any part of him, except his hands. Everything hurt too much. We were no longer laughing. We were hoping for one more day.”
“There was never a break. Being a single mom was time-consuming as is, add in juggling three small businesses and attempting to figure out how to heal in the midst of it all. Comparison knocked on my door frequently in the beginning.”
“‘Would you be interested in adopting your foster daughter?’ For me, it wasn’t a question. The first day she walked into our house, she was home. Every day they would ask, ‘Is today our adoption day?’ But we then hit a bump in the road. I tried to keep my emotions in check. I can only describe Katherine’s journey as a roller coaster. But she is safe, she is loved, and she is home.”
“I imagined myself growing old and wrinkled, building a beautiful family with the love of my life. Instead, I’m watching my body waste away right before my eyes with nothing I can do about it.”
“He showed up at my house. I was convinced I was going to die. I was obsessively checking my yard each morning for rat poison in case the dogs went out. I was afraid. Afraid I’d have to fight him off. I just wanted to be strong enough to survive. When I realized I could deadlift his body weight, I felt less afraid.”
“Until my father was diagnosed with lung cancer, I thought I knew about all of his biggest adventures. He grew up in a dirt-floor cabin in Appalachia; he became friends with a burgeoning country music star when he climbed a fire escape into their recording studio. He built my childhood home with his bare hands. I started having him write down his stories in his hospital room. Once he started, he never wanted to stop.”
“When you ask a special needs parent how they’ve been and they roll their eyes, yawn, and say, ‘Eh, it’s been rough, honestly.’ It might be our pride or that we feel guilty. If you have been wondering how you can help, know that it is simple. Show up. Keep showing up.”
