Precerpt from Raising God's Rainbow Makers: Epcot Center
When the kids were little, we drove from Pittsburgh to Daytona Beach, Florida, to visit Donnie’s grandmother after Grandpa died. We spent some lovely days on the beach. Lizzie and Shane ran straight into the surf like they had been born with gills. Noelle, determined as always, figured out how to wade with her braces and crutches. (When we got home, we had to explain to the bracemaker how the ocean had “mysteriously” demolished them. He was not amused. Noelle was.) Doah, only a couple of years old, couldn’t run with the others. He still had his tracheotomy, so he and I sat in the sand building castles while Donnie supervised the older kids. It was one of the rare moments in those years when I felt relaxed — truly relaxed — because most of our time was spent in hospitals, clinics, or managing medical equipment at home. Sitting there with him, letting the sun warm us, I allowed myself to believe that everything was under control. And then the ocean reminded me that nothing is ever under ...