Fourteen years ago, a visitor stood nervously by Sarah’s hospital bed. He was obviously ill at ease in a medical setting, shifting from foot to foot, trying to come up with something appropriate to say. He finally managed to blurt out, “We had a neighbor child a few years ago who also had Neuroblastoma. She died six months after she was diagnosed.”…

So here’s the deal. I have always had fairly good hair.  Not fabulous, but usually easy to work with with plenty of body and bounce. That was then. This is now. I have officially transitioned from bad hair days to bad hair weeks!…

Last night, we Skyped with the Floridian part of the family. Be still, my heart.   (Well, I don’t literally want my heart to be still because that would mean I was dead but  . . . you know what I mean.)…

If you’ve been hanging out with our family for any time at all, you may have noticed that Sarah is a gal of many hairstyles.  She seems to have the kind of hair that just does what it’s told, unlike mine which appears to have rebellion woven throughout its strands. Late last week, she got yet another brand new look. I thought that before showing it…