I knew what was coming. I think you do too. Her goodbye that day would be her final one.
I knew what was coming. I think you do too. Her goodbye that day would be her final one.
Had you told me two days earlier that this would have been Christmas, I would have screamed in worried agony. I would have called it a failure and seen my biggest fear become a reality.
As I frantically tried to put his clothes back on, I repeated “No, no, no,” and “we don’t take our clothes off”.
If he suddenly stops tomorrow and begins sliding down the chute rather than climbing the ladder, I will still be proud to be his dad.
If you’re busy yelling and screaming about the mistakes you make today, you lose the focus to erase them from the person you are tomorrow.
My non-verbal son isn’t telling me funny tales from his day. Yet, I’ve seen them all grow up. They’re a part of his life and it makes them important to mine.
There’s always a pressing issue that needs his attention in another room.
The days of smoking in the mall, downing an Orange Julius, and watching Dr. Huxtable examine women in his basement have all come to an end.
He’s succeeded at things I never dreamed possible – things that experts never dreamed possible. He’s not only persevered, he’s crushed it.
Nebulizer? Medicine? What? What does this kid need? Even if he could speak, I might not know.
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