Columns

My mom died almost 10 years ago. Her birthday is tomorrow, Jan. 27, the same day that Holocaust Memorial Day is observed, and I always think of her on it. She passed on many strengths, including her loyalty to those she loved. She always spoke of my grandfather with reverence,…

Friedreich’s ataxia (FA) is all-consuming. When I allow my experience with it to consume my thoughts, life with FA can seem like an insurmountable problem with no hope of rescue or normalcy. Living with FA and its symptom progression is entirely beyond my control. So what can…

On a chilly January day, my husband, Dave, and I took down our Christmas tree. I love those two to three weeks each year when my Christmas tree sparkles in the living room. I find my tree so magical for its beauty and for the ornaments laden with memories. There…

This morning, I did something I rarely do: I asked my children for help with writer’s block. Every Monday morning, I sit down at my computer to write about whatever is in my heart or on my mind as it relates to living with Friedreich’s ataxia (FA).

It is spectacularly beautiful outside. A wintry mix early this morning has left a coat of ice on everything, which the sun is now illuminating, leaving me stunned by the beauty around me. It’s a snow day here in my part of New England. Of course, I hope it…

As we drove down the street, the morning jam to music paused briefly when my eldest daughter said, “Don’t forget to go Dad’s way.” I smiled, knowing full well what she meant. Dad’s way was a shorter route to her school, but my daughter was also telling me, “Please pay…

My husband, Kyle, who will turn 38 next month, has been involved in sports since the age of 5. He played baseball in college and learned numerous life lessons that have shaped him into the kind of husband, father, co-worker, coach, and volunteer he is today. To provide some background,…

I have started fundraising for my next service dog so Wendy, my current service dog, can retire. It has not been easy, but I know it’s time. Wendy is always happy to help me, mainly by picking up things I drop, and she is always spot-on in public — except…

One of my favorite podcasts had an episode titled “Quantum Refuge,” which made me think about Schrödinger’s cat. I was never a physicist, but here’s how I understand it: Schrödinger imagined a cat sealed in a box with a tiny radioactive atom. If the atom decays, poison is…

As part of the field work required for my master’s degree in social work, I worked with someone who had a traumatic brain injury, trying to help him move away from destructive behaviors. I always thought part of the problem was that he was in his late 30s and living…

If there were Olympic medals for complaining, I’d have an impressive trophy room by now. For most of my life with Friedreich’s ataxia (FA), I didn’t realize I was “training” for that, because complaining had become second nature to me. I didn’t always do it loudly; it was often…

This is the time of year when I ask my husband, Dave, what he wants for Christmas. He usually replies: “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.” He repeats it year after year, especially as Christmas or his birthday draws near. So, mostly, I select gifts without his guidance.