One Foot In Front of the Other

There is a melancholy that surrounds a new year.  Passages through grief and tears mingle with the joy that a new beginning brings.  May this poem speak to you as it does to me. William Wordsworth. 1770–1850    Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood    THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,     The earth, and every common sight,             To me did seem     Apparell'd in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.          5 It is not now as it hath been of yore;—         Turn wheresoe'er I may,             By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more.         The rainbow comes and goes,   10         And lovely is the rose;         The moon doth with delight     Look round her when the heavens are bare;         Waters on a starry night         Are beautiful and fair;   15     The sunshine is a glorious birth;     But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath pass'd

As 2015 draws to a close, I've been thinking about the adventures we experienced during this year. 2015 was the year of emergency room visits.  I have pictures on my phone that document the head injuries Lacy received during the year. This was the year I began to see the effects of aging on my body:  A broken toe and knee surgery kept me sidelined for nearly 6 months. 2015 was the year that we realized Lacy needed to be in a nursing home. This was the year that God again showed His mercy and grace.  We were given wisdom in selecting a nursing home.  The fears we had about the transition were never realized.  Lacy is doing very well. 2015 was the year of advancements in the quest for a treatment or cure for HD.  New drug trials are very promising.  There will be a cure. The new year holds the unknown.  We have no idea what is ahead of us.  None of us has a crystal ball to see what is coming.   Thank God we do not know.  We would worry and stress about what we cannot chan

I thought I would share the honest Christmas letter one might send out as an  HD family.  We do laugh at some of the things that happen, and even the most terrible incidents are darkly humorous.  As you know, I am not normally a "Debbie Downer," and I would never send this to someone in real life.  Hopefully you'll laugh a little with us, and pray for a cure! Dear Family and Friends, This Christmas season finds us all licking our wounds from a particularly brutal year.   We’ve survived and we are sending you this letter to prove it!   As most of you know, we usually take a week long vacation sometime during the year, but we elected instead to take several short but meaningful trips to an Emergency Room.   We’ve seen two different ER waiting rooms, so message us if you want the low down on the most commodious.   Suffice it to say that you get in quickly if you A: come by ambulance (our preferred mode of transport this year!), B: Have an obviously malformed bone

The holiday season is upon us, and I find myself at odds with the festivities surrounding these next couple of weeks.  I've vacillated between being joyful and feeling great sadness.  Kenny and I talked about this today, and he's felt the same way.   I think that loss is felt so keenly at this time of year, because the focus is on getting together with loved ones, having a great time, giving and receiving gifts.   Our family's traditions are changing.  Huntington's Disease has robbed us of so much.  Lacy is unable to come home.   Leaving the facility in which he lives upsets him so much, and he just doesn't care about holidays much anymore. During the Christmas holidays we used to bring Lacy home for at least a week.  We'd put together jigsaw puzzles and watch episodes of Matlock on TV.  On Christmas morning we'd have biscuits and gravy.  Lacy would play Santa and give out all the presents. This year, Kenny and I will eat Christmas breakfast at home,