When I was in my early teens, my grandparents were given a blue heeler (Australian cattle dog). He was a medium sized dog with a scruffy salt and pepper coat, and I thought he looked like he should be owned by a homeless person. He wasn’t anything you’d see and want to cuddle with.
I graduated from Brandon High School on the afternoon of Sunday, May 26, 1996, at the Jackson Municipal Auditorium. Once we all finished walking across the stage (with the exception of Mark who was on crutches after falling out of a tree while wearing a tutu a few nights before), I turned in my rented cap and gown and took pictures with my friends … Read More I was the ballast and the hydration distribution engineer
I fought it. The symbol of weakness sat by itself in the guest room where I never went. Whenever I struggled to walk past the door, I purposefully averted my eyes, looking down or away. I did anything I could to avoid dealing with the wheelchair the young guy delivered in October of 2007. It was an ominous sign of my fading independence that … Read More A thief gave me the world
The following is a Facebook post from Nicky Williams Dexter. She shared her daily reality and it gripped me. She and I share the struggles of FSHD yet we have different experiences. I’m reposting this with her permission. If you’d like to contact her, she accepts all friend requests from folks interested in FSHD. I encourage all of you to drop her a line … Read More The View From Nicky’s Seat
On June 2, 1992, my family moved from Louisville to Brandon. I met a few kids that first summer before school started, but when band camp rolled around a couple weeks before the first day of school, I got a jump start on making friends. So, on my first day of high school, I wasn’t totally lost. There were familiar faces peppered throughout the … Read More The truck battery didn’t last, but the friendship did
One particular Wednesday night in March of my 30th year, I was at my parents’ house sitting at a table in the living room while working on my laptop. They were at church, and I was there by myself. It had been raining for several days and was still raining. I could hear the fat drops as they pelted the roof above me.
…continued Several weeks after the rage of getting conned by a con man faded from the front of my brain, I met Mr. Roy. He was a nice, white-haired gentleman who worked the sign-in table at my voting precinct. I’d heard Martin say on many occasions he had to go see Mr. Roy to get paid for some task he’d helped him with … Read More She’s Alive! She’s Alive!
Just as I was about to call it a week at work and head out for the weekend, I got a call from the Warren County DA’s office in regard to a 3-year old case against a homeless guy to whom we’d given some food, but not Martin. Martin stole my lawnmower. This guy stole a Honda scooter from my garage. The case has … Read More Breaking Martin News!
…continued Shortly after the blessing of the balls and Martin’s mother’s funeral, he showed up and started working off the money I’d given him by mowing my grass that he’d been neglecting. Being the resourceful chap that he was, he also started using my lawnmower to cut other yards up and down the street. A few days after starting his new business, he even … Read More I Lost a Lawnmower, But I Gained a .357