Yep, It's Like That. Kinda.

Someone asked once, in regards to raising a severely disabled child: 

How do you do this? What is it like?

This is what I might say.

Some days feel like this.















Other days feel like this.

On more difficult days, 
it can feel like this.

As the Dad, I feel I have to be like this:

Yet I realize it's more like this:

For someone like this.

Because this is that someone.

And this.

And this.

Because she treats people like this.

Loves her brother like this.

Treats the world like this.

Even when she deals with this.

And Mom and Dad try to be like this.

But we feel exactly like this.

And this.

So we rely on this.

And the promises we received when we were married in this.

I'm going to get spiritual here, and specifically religious - so if that offends you, please repent and give God a big 'ol apology.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka Mormon). You can find my "I'm a Mormon" profile HERE.

When people ask, How can you do this? Here are a few reasons why I feel we can.

There is a God.

There is a purpose to this life.

We are both body and spirit, and that spirit existed before - and will continue to exist - after these "college years" of life here at the University of Earth.

Death is not the end.

My marriage and family bonds will continue after this life.

This mortal experience is but a single preposition in a very large narrative. In that way, my daughter Miriam's challenges are temporary. They are also capable of refining our characters.

Despite the tragedy that caused her condition, I believe Miriam had a decision in her status here on Earth. That may sound utterly ridiculous, but I have reasons (too sacred and personal to share) that have affirmed this belief. 

How convenient, one might say. Proof that religion is the opiate of the masses.

Believe what you want. I know what I've seen, what I've felt. I know by the extraordinary spirit behind my daughter's eyes. I have seen lives changed because of her. I have seen her purifying influence in my life.

How do you do it? people ask.

We don't, I reply. God does it. My daughter's courage and optimism does it.

There you go.

Miriam, 2006. What a Cootie-Patootie.