I spent the morning of Thanksgiving, or sometimes the night before, picking bread for stuffing. It was a ritual I started helping mom with at a very young age.
Over the course of the last few years, there have been tears, there has been pain and important life events have been missed. In each instance, I have found a way to be strong. To tell myself that she would be proud of the woman I have grown into.
I once thought life was about checking as many boxes as possible and grabbing as much happiness along the way. I have since come to learn a good life is one full of love and purpose and my child with Down syndrome has given me both.
