I have to admit, I am a Hopeaholic. HOPE was my armour protecting me from being drug down into the pit of despair. HOPE was the only thing that kept me sane for 24 years as John and I stared in the faces of Lora, Marcia and Cindy, my sisters-in-law, as they struggled with Huntington’s disease (HD).
The year our son, Keith, was born was when Huntington’s Disease (HD) became real to my family. It was October, 1984, when I was in the community hospital giving birth to our first born, while Lora, John’s oldest sister, was deeply depressed and self-medicating with alcohol. She was in Starting Point, a drug and alcohol rehabilitation center on a different floor of the hospital. So, John was on a roller coaster, joyous with our new son and upset and sad about Lora.
Excerpt from Watching Their Dance: Three Sisters, a Genetic Disease and Marrying into a Family At Risk for Huntington’s, Chapter 13:
“Then he turned away and began talking in a low voice. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were discussing. It made me sad, but just then, a nurse walked in with Keith and placed in my arms this little person I’d been waiting for my whole life. When John hung up the phone, we each held one of Keith’s tiny hands. Staring into his bright eyes, I think we both saw HOPE.”
Gloria Steinem, one of my female hero’s. https://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/gloria-steinem
We Can Never Lose Hope……………..
Author website: http://www.theresecrutchermarin.com