I visited my son Christopher at his rehabilitative care facility on Saturday. The staff had turned on the TV. The channel was set to the Winter Olympic games. It appeared as if Christopher might have been paying attention to the coverage. I could only stay about an hour, so I planned on returning to visit him again later in the evening. However, I started to feel a little under the weather before departing for his facility to visit him again,... Read more

Christopher’s mom and I were going through the equivalent of neuro-storming this past week. The relentless struggle in advocating for Christopher and his precious family hit a new emotional level of high fever pitch. Just as we were processing how to cope and hope with Christopher’s TBI and find a way forward, I received a text from my niece Megan. She said she suddenly felt an “overwhelming desire to pray for Christopher” and all of us. “Wow! Amazing!” were the... Read more

Have you heard the phrase, “Like Father, like Son”? How about “Like Son, like Father”? I would assume you’ve heard of the former, but not the latter. This is a post about the latter phrase, namely how my son influences me. Christopher smiled at me when I entered his room Tuesday. I was flattered that my son recognized me and was glad I was there. The CNA was in the process of changing and repositioning him and celebrated Christopher’s expression... Read more

I love the scene in Forrest Gump where he runs for three plus years. Jackson Brown’s song, “Running on Empty,” plays alongside Forrest as he runs. Maybe Forrest was running just to run. Maybe he was running to put the past behind him. Maybe he was running to cope with the pain of losing Jenny, the woman he had always loved. Whatever the case, Forrest ran. When Forrest needed to eat, he ate. When he needed to sleep, he slept.... Read more

I just got off the phone with one of my best friends. We were sharing and praying for one another’s families in view of tragic life experiences. My friend’s a pastor and a retired US Marine captain. He knows a lot about being in foxholes with comrades. Actually, I think he prefers it, including food in the trenches. He would rather be in a foxhole than hang out behind the front lines with mess hall mates.   One of the... Read more

Last night, my wife Mariko and I sat at the dinner table and reflected on one of Mariko’s recent visits with our son Christopher at his rehabilitative care facility. I am reflecting further on our conversation this morning, as I also consider Martin Luther’s King’s legacy this weekend. In this post, I reflect upon my son Christopher’s battle with TBI, MLK’s vision of The Beloved Community, and who we consider VIPs (very important people). Ever since Christopher suffered a traumatic... Read more

Sometimes I wonder if Christopher’s movements are coincidence or instances of conscious control. It is not always easy to discern given his traumatic brain injury, but I’m holding two thumbs up for hope in the latter possibility. Here’s what transpired last night bedside. Christopher appeared to be more alert last night than over the past several days. I would think it helps that the staff at his rehabilitative care facility have been able to get him up in his wheelchair... Read more

On New Year’s Eve, I watched a Seinfeld episode involving Kramer and his new hot tub, a Trinidadian and Tobagonian marathon runner whom Elaine was chaperoning in NYC, and Elaine and her “Himalayan walking shoes.” “The Hot Tub” episode helped me unwind after visiting my son Christopher in his rehabilitative care facility. As one might expect, there were various missteps along the way: Kramer’s hot tub malfunctioned; the Trinidadian and Tobagonian marathon runner overslept and almost missed the NYC Marathon;... Read more

My view of Jesus is a bit different than Will Ferrell’s version in Talladega Nights. His character named Ricky Bobby begins family dinner by praying to “eight pound six-ounce baby Jesus.” He prefers to pray to “baby Jesus” rather than “grown-up Jesus” or “bearded Jesus”. He likes thinking of Jesus being so “tiny” and cuddly” and wearing “golden-fleeced diapers”. No doubt, baby Jesus was tiny and cuddly. Perhaps he even had “tiny, little, fat, balled-up fists,” as Ricky Bobby prays.... Read more

So many of us experience the blues over the holidays. How do we turn painful emotional triggers into prompts of comfort and hope? I am slowly learning how to answer this question that is often at the front of my mind most days and nights. Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were by no means exemptions. In what follows, I will reflect on how I sought to turn holiday blues into blue skies even on rainy and gray days here in... Read more