Recently I had the opportunity to reflect on a very difficult health crisis and how it effected my family.

I was sorting paper work, getting rid of clutter and cherishing wonderful memories and keep sakes as I discovered them among the chaos.

One tattered piece of paper I opened as I was filing, was a writing exercise that my oldest daughter had written  several months after my recovery.

Looking back, I realize that I was unaware how deeply the incident had effected her.  Briana is usually very good at expressing her emotions, but I’m sure she was trying to “take care of mom”, and didn’t want to worry me with her anxiety.

The whole ordeal took a lot out of me.   Life was kinda foggy for me at the time.  I was doing all I could just to get back on my feet, and I wasn’t even recognizing my own symptoms of depression.

It makes me a little sad that I wasn’t there for her, but I’m so glad that she was able to express those feelings right there in her creative writing class almost a year later.

In 2005, at the end of March, my baby brother was born.

Just a bundle of velvet skin.

I was so anxious that something might happen to my mom, but everything was fine.

A few months later, I was alarmed and frightened to see my mother’s neck slowly blow up like a balloon.

Soon it looked like a red rock sticking out of her neck.

It was scary.

She went to the doctor, and they put her in the hospital.  When that happened, Continue reading article →