#28: What Remains
Last week you sat at the table with tears in your eyes. You looked at the kids sitting at the island and said, your voice trembling with sadness, “I’m sorry guys. A dad is supposed to be big and strong.” Our 8-year-old climbed down from her stool and walked over to you. She put her…
To love my body, it had to fail me.
This week I was skating with my family, racing my 4-year-old up and down the rink as she giggled and squealed. I watched her wobble and right herself and push forward to win. I followed behind her, skating the length of the ice on one foot going one direction, the other coming back. I’m not…
Most people reading this know that in March, at 34 years old, I had a stroke. On social media, most of our friends’ life events, whether happy or sad or scary or joyous, exist in a vacuum. We read about them. We comment on them. And then we mostly forget them. But of course social…