In The News
Carmen's Never-ending Story
"She May Not Survive Surgery..."
“She smiled at me as I caressed her brown locks from the comfort of our couch. It was June and the sunlight sent sparkles dancing across her dark eyes, portals to the wisdom inside of her. I traced the scars on her chest and exhaled. ‘You did it, baby girl! You really did it. You came home.’
I Wasn't Prepared to Love You or To Lose You
I remember the first day I felt uncontrollable grief.
You were four days old, and I received the first of nine consecutive phone calls explaining your complexities.
Heart, brain, kidneys, mouth, spine, genes . . .
Every piece of you seemed mismatched and unfinished.
Tainted, I clawed to hold onto normalcy. Around every corner, another dead end.