I’m shattering.

Day by day.

Breath by breath.

Heartbeat by heartbeat.

Just like the windshield.

The windshield on which my son threw himself in an effort to end his anguish and his life.

I still see the patterns that his head left on the glass. I still see him running. I see him picking his long, lean body off the lush summer grass and slamming his head into the tinted safety glass only to bounce off like an old-fashioned rubber ball.

That day, I stood alone, shocked, with one thought in my mind: What should I do?

I knew with certainty that whatever happened next would be worse.

It was.

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A Bit About Me


Sharing the story of my family's journey through the maze of mental illness and the devastation of paralysis challenged me in so many ways.  I wanted families in similar situations to know that they are not alone.  In my case, prayer carried me through the darkest hours.  That is something else I wanted to share.

I live with my husband on the same country road he grew up on.  My daughter and her husband and children live in the same house that she grew up in.  I love that sense of continuity.  I love hearing the thunder of footsteps and the shouts of "Gaga" as my grandchildren run across our porch and throw open the door.  Their smiles and greetings make my heart sing.

Like everyone else, I have days that are more challenging than others.  A lot of people run to help with days like these, but my solution to a stressful day is a square or two of dark chocolate.  The darker, the better!  

One last thing, I am a March baby and my shirt explains a little bit more about me!

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“Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.” 
― William Wordsworth


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