It’s so much more than the turkey. Memories of childhood Thanksgiving gatherings with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins take me to a happy place. My paternal grandmother, Mammaw, wearing white socks and practical black shoes, poured sugar into the bowl for cake icing while the best ever…
We’re Not in Kansas Anymore
— Helen Baldwin
Helen Baldwin lives in Jefferson, North Carolina, with her husband, Randy plus their two dogs, a cat, and untold wild critters outside. Their firstborn’s family, including two delightful children, lives just down the road, so she enjoys lots of MomMom time. Helen and Randy have a rental cabin and bees, among numerous other endeavors, so they’ll never be bored. Life took a drastic twist in 1997 when their third baby, Jeffrey, was diagnosed with SMA type 1. Although their active stint with SMA was brief, Helen hopes that sharing and connecting experiences after Jeffrey’s death, usually with optimism, helps others endure the unpredictability of loss and recovery.
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Our granddaughter, Clara, turns 10 this month. She loves choosing themes for her birthday parties, and “PopPop,” as she calls my husband, Randy, challenges himself to design and bake elaborate cakes to match. This year’s theme is based on the Broadway musical and film “Wicked.”…
It all started 23 years ago, this propensity for November to pack a punch. In the wee hours of Nov. 1, 1997, a power outage set the stage for an eventful day. Make that an eventful few days. By that time, our baby Jeffrey, diagnosed with…
As far back as I can remember, I have had an affinity for all things scary, creepy, suspenseful, and macabre. From “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” (which includes books, black-and-white TV reruns, and movies), to true crime drama, thriller fiction, and “The Walking…
When I began daydreaming about the kind of house my husband, Randy, and I would someday own, my vision included a big covered porch with a swing, a roomy yard with lots of trees, and a white picket fence. Gloria, our realtor in Fort Worth, Texas, had…
My teaching career started at Brockman School in Columbia, South Carolina. Nestled in the corner of a quiet neighborhood resembling a forest, Brockman was a self-contained school for children ages 3-21 with orthopedic and multiple handicapping conditions. My assignment was the kindergarten class. Several other…
In the beginning of the COVID-19 chaos, I tried to stay informed of updated health-related warnings and recommendations. I soon waved the proverbial white flag to ward off permanent whiplash from keeping abreast of the ever-changing information. During this pandemic pandemonium, my current primary daily duty is…
Not long after our third baby, Jeffrey, was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy (SMA), my mother received a note from her cousin, who mentioned her two granddaughters’ “muscle disease.” Having believed for years that the girls had spina bifida, we learned quickly, though not totally shockingly, that…
There’s no need to dwell on the insanity that has defined 2020, so I’m skipping right on over to this month. I think it’s August. August is SMA Awareness Month, an opportunity to flood the universe with all things SMA for 31 days. Those in the…
Our family has some generous gardening friends. One such friend keeps us spoiled with her garden goodies regularly. She has delivered to our porch zucchini, beans, lettuce, garlic, and fresh eggs. Oh, and tomatoes. *** Our baby Jeffrey’s routine check at two months…
It’s probably safe to say that these past four months have been a blur for many. It seems that mere blinks ago it was mid-March, the last days of normalcy in untold routines, and the beginning of upheavals that have defied description. Somehow, it’s already four months…
One month after our baby Jeffrey was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy, I met Cindy Schaefer on an SMA message board. Her son, Bionews Services columnist and forums director Kevin Schaefer, was diagnosed with type 2 SMA a couple years before that. During our…
June 7 was my 46th wedding anniversary. My parents reached their 50th anniversary 17 years ago. It is mind-boggling that my husband, Randy, and I are already old enough to ponder our own golden celebration. I have mentioned Randy in almost every column, if not all of them.
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