Kev was having a bad day. On a bright summer afternoon, he lay curled up on the dark basement couch, holding his stomach.
I was tired. Tired from work. Tired of Kevin’s pain. Losing patience waiting for the right dosage of Botox to work its magic on Kevin’s tired intestines. And yet, I had to rally if I was to help Kevin rally.
I began with a touch. A gentle connection, my hand on Kevin’s shoulder. He cried harder. Time was offered ...Continue Reading →