Your whiskers have been cut, damaged, torn from the root. Your surroundings have been unsettled, tossed even destroyed with no hope of restoration. Struggling to firmly plant feet that used to know the way. Feet that once lead you on adventure, to places unknown, locations you didn't know you needed to dwell. You retreat as the fear surrounds you, overtakes you, drowns you. Your once fierce presence has been diminished into a person that hides, cowers and often flees. I will lead you until you to return to that once strong, sometimes overwhelming pillar of strength. -
I may have been told more than once that I talk too much. So to spare my family and friends much turmoil, this blog was created. Tales of Wonder. Tales of Woe. Often of heartache and love. Stories about my special needs son and my spunky daughter. Moments of Joy and Hope and stories about what I would do differently if given the chance. Stories that only I can tell. Here you find a little of everything. And you will want to return for more.
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I Was There To Hold His Hand
Our dad is dying. He is in his final days. My sister Angela is doing an amazing job caring for him in her home. She is overseeing care,...

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Our dad is dying. He is in his final days. My sister Angela is doing an amazing job caring for him in her home. She is overseeing care,...
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