I can still feel the pain of all of it. I can feel my muscles ache and swell from the disease. I remember every time I’ve fallen throughout the years because my core muscles and hips and thighs are so weak. I feel the smashing onto the ground and feel the pain of every hit. I feel the childhood embarrassment of not being the same as everyone else. My right femur still aches when it rains or the weather changes, a deep bone pain that I can’t reach and somehow still feels as though my leg is crying out for the pieces the doctors took out, for it’s lost parts. My legs are thick and heavy from the disease. I try hard to walk straight and strong so no one sees the weakness and pain within me. Read more…
An Open Letter to my Kids
To All of My Precious Children,
Time has such an insidious way of changing things.
Somehow as I reflect here in this crepuscule and obscure hamlet I’ve found myself in, my mind transcends time and space. It erases the years between, and all at once I hold each one of you in my arms, my infants and […] Read more…