The sad part about all of this is that the qualities that made me special and them too are ignored.  I haven’t actually told anyone exactly what I’ve done and learned during this often painful uncertain journey but it will come into play for my kids in the future.  I know every parent thinks their kids are special but I’ve been around so many types of people that I know for sure.

Recently, I had two memories of you.  Both happened at the fair.  The first was you wearing a shirt that had a tortoise and a snail racing each other.  I made fun of it but it was a cute shirt.  My daughter said that would be the type of shirt she would like as well.  The second memory is when you picked up a guitar and sang a song.  You were actually quite good and have a nice voice.  And when you sang, it wasn’t that your voice was beautiful as much as it reflected your spirit, your soul.

I spent three weeks in the hospital.  Other than my parents, only two other parties visited – my college roommate and one set of mt daughter’s godparents.  My parents came every other day or two days.  Usually they would stay for a brief period.  My mom would pat my foot and that would be pretty much it.  I cried a lot and couldn’t move because of the pain.  One night. I woke up around 2 am and called out your name.  A nurse heard me and brought me some Jello.