The Story of Owen

My seventh sibling, a warm bundle of red, squishy, blinking wonder, had down syndrome. I stared at the new life in my arms and slowly processed the fact that as fragile as every newborn is, this one was more so. As much as every newborn needed attention and love, this one would need more. But it would be a type of attention and nurture that my family had never experienced before.

Personal Ponderings On Print

...As to my ideal writing atmosphere, that is a clear table with my laptop upon it, logs blazing in the fireplace, cocoa steaming by my left elbow, the thesis for what I’m writing scrawled on a notebook by my right, and a clear endpoint in mind when I start pounding on the computer keyboard. Music drifts from the speakers and family members are wrapped up in their own business without needing to tap me on my shoulder every five minutes to ask for my input or help.