Columns

I find myself stranded today. I had traveled from Texas to Denver for a week of classes before jetting off to Vermont for a speaking engagement. Before my arrival in Vermont, my return flight to Denver was canceled. What’s a girl to do? Having spoken at the New…

This month, we celebrated the two holidays of Easter and Passover. Many of my Christian friends describe Easter as a celebration of freedom over sin and death due to the resurrection of Jesus Christ. My Jewish friends gather to recount the story of Passover, a celebration of freedom from slavery…

We all enter history at a different point; our entry into the timeline of the world marks where the future of us begins as individuals and families. Sometimes, we accelerate into the on-ramp that launches us, and sometimes we bumpily move toward our mark. On our first date, my now-husband…

One of the best things about my relationship with my wife is our team approach to difficult circumstances stemming from hemophilia. I tend to remain calm at the beginning of a problem, while she is active toward the end. Our responses mostly happen automatically, like clockwork. We are grateful…

My youngest son Caeleb suffers from seasonal allergies. He gets severe headaches, congestion, a runny nose, watery eyes — it’s not fun. One of the telltale signs that he is genuinely sick is when he vomits from a headache; otherwise, I chalk most things up to allergies. On a Sunday…

When I’m browsing online, I often see posts dedicated to carers of people with disabilities, calling them “unsung heroes” for sacrificing time and convenience for their loved ones’ well-being. As the wife of a person with disabilities, I can attest that is often the case. I believe carers deserve recognition.

My oldest son will be moving out of the house in a few weeks to rent an apartment with a good friend of his. My mind continues to bring light to the fact that he is 22 years old. It is time for him to spread his wings and leave…

The other day, I ran across a tiny, plastic bag that contained a blue bead representing a clinic visit. My son Caeleb was part of the Beads of Courage program at the University of New Mexico Children’s Hospital. The program uses glass beads donated by artists to…

A genetic mutation for hemophilia has passed through five generations of my family. We can trace it from my great-grandfather, known simply as a “bleeder,” to my nephew. My great-grandfather passed the genetic mutation to my grandmother. My grandmother passed the genetic mutation to my father. My father…

Last weekend, I had an experience I had long dreamed about. This experience had been on my list of “things to achieve” for several years since I met my husband, Jared, who lives with hemophilia. Many women my age dream of treating themselves to a huge shopping…