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William will be 5 years old this Sunday, September 11.  We rejoice! Here is a poem I wrote some time ago.  Happy Birthday, son.   William’s Storm… Barely above a pound jettisoned into life Peeking through gauze Poked, prodded, stuck and skewered Surrounded by white coats, bright lights, beeps and bottles hanging on poles. Home…

One of the biggest desires of a parent is for your child to get along.  I mean really, who wants to have the kid that “Doesn’t play well with others”?  That has to be a nightmare for any mother or father.  All I knew was that I didn’t want to have “that kid”!  You know…

When you’re sitting in a small, white room where the couch is too small and there aren’t enough chairs, faith takes on a whole new meaning. Despite the strife looming in that room, I could feel faith. Faith has a feeling.  I could touch it.  Faith had His arms wrapped around me.  The doctor told…

Just when I thought there was nothing else the doctor could say to me that would not offend or upset me, he asked, “What do you want to do?”  To me, that question was cruel on many levels.  Maybe it was not the question. Maybe it was how he prefaced it…. “Sure, your son made…
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