My son Al

June 28th, 1995 was a Wednesday.  My contractions had started before the sun came up and at the hospital the midwives were waiting to help me through labor.  Albert Louis Schuitema was born that afternoon.  His eyes were so dark they were almost black.  Looking into them, I fell into a universe soft with love.…

Rate this:

Read More

Bathed in radiance

One of the most difficult things about having a self-hatred problem (for me at least) is that I realize how narcissistic it is when I’m in the midst of it.  Right now I’m looking at some challenges that I hadn’t wanted to take on.  As the time comes closer to the day that I have…

Rate this:

Read More

Losing battles

Confronting the reality of my son’s condition as fatal is a battle that has taken me to the brink of insanity over and over again.  Sometimes the grief is so heavy that I don’t think I can bear it another second.  Then Dan will cough or crack one of his jokes that make me howl…

Rate this:

Read More