about Sunday
Baby A was my neice. She was born with trisomy 13 and given a bleak prognosis. Told she would be a dishrag - unable to know anyone and would die within 1 week.
I spent every day caring for her. She is the reason I have kids today.
The 'poem' is actually part of they lyrics for a song from 'Wicked'. The song makes me cry - and think of A...
posted by cathie @ 1:46 PM
3 Comments:
Oh my... I know that caring for a terminally ill child is an experience that you can't compare to anything else. All I can think of is how much I loved my own kids by the time they were 2.5. Just can't imagine planning for goodbye. You're a good, good sister.
My wife's best friend in the Navy was a nurse; she always volunteered for the terminal children's wards. I asked her once how she could deal with that heartbreak over and over and she said because she knew that "every day she had done something to make their lives better".
'Tis truly a gift like no other; thanks for being you!
alan
Hugs for you Cathie.
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