Happy Birthday, Jessica!
For my beautiful daughter —
Thank you for teaching me the meaning of joy.
For my beautiful daughter —
Thank you for teaching me the meaning of joy.
I am looking at the neurosurgeon’s business card. I’m supposed to call the number this morning to schedule Jessica’s surgery. I will talk to June, whom I have talked to before, and she will be very kind, and it will be very easy, in the sense that she will not be a pain in the…
I wrote this during Jessica’s recent hospital stay, so don’t worry, she’s not back in the hospital. We are in Jessica’s hospital room and she is in pain, but it’s an hour before she can have any more meds, a fact that I don’t argue with the nurses over although honest to zeus you…
A few weeks ago, I wrote about how life can make you question everything you believe. I quoted Rebecca, a reader who said, “With the initial wound of the TSC [tuberous sclerosis complex] diagnosis still fresh for us, I have shied away from examining any belief. Because, frankly, anything I have ever believed about this…
Jess has the conversational style of an investigative journalist. “It’s a nice day,” I’ll say, and she’ll respond, “What makes you say that?” I’ll point to the blue sky, and the shining sun, and she’ll nod, accepting the evidence I have presented. “This is a great song,” I’ll say, but it’s not enough to express…
Last year, Jessica and I were talking about our wishes, because we like to wish upon stars. And every time we do, we have the same three wishes: that she will grow big and strong, that we will always have good work to do, and that we will live happily ever after. That day, she added…
We are at the zoo on a late fall afternoon. The weather is cool but pleasant. We’re sitting at an outdoor table near the exit and I am trying to convince Jessica that it’s time to go. She disagrees. Jessica has been in charge of the itinerary for this trip, so we have ridden the…