My daughter was three years old when she got her first wheelchair. To that point, she had used a stroller provided by a wheelchair company, so NOT a regular stroller; it had appropriate therapeutic seating to encourage her ability to sit, and hydraulic wheels to absorb shocks, and a seat back that reclined completely for... Continue Reading →
Some girls spend their time dreaming of a big wedding, planning for motherhood, wishing for Prince Charming to sweep into their lives. Other than looking for a prince, or really any boy, to sweep into my life, I didn't dream that way. Professionally, I wanted to be a baseball player or a priest. But I... Continue Reading →
"You'll act as I demand, or no more fast cars and vacations and living in a dimly lit castle for YOU!"
Sometimes, it takes being in those naked spaces where we can't hide anymore to find out what we're made of, who we are, and how we behave . . .
I took a class on Whitman, Dickinson, Keats and Longfellow in college. It was team-taught by two department stars, Dr. Kiefer and Rodney Jones, one a natty dresser with a gorgeous head of curly hair, the other an acclaimed poet, a stereotypical professor in appearance, wry sense of humor and laconic delivery. While I vividly... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 