01/13/2026
Some people laugh at what they don’t understand.
Some rush what requires patience.
Some mock what demands compassion.
My husband, Lew, was shot in the head 24 years ago.
Doctors said he would be gone within six hours.
He lived.
He lives with paralysis on his right side, knee pain on his left, headaches, seizures, and moments where words take longer to arrive. I say I speak Lew because love learns the language of survival.
The other night, as he took his time speaking, working to find his words, people laughed and rushed him. What they could not see was the discipline it takes for him to even form the sentence. What they did not know was the war his body has already survived.
Today, we are at the gym.
Lew is doing more with half of his body than many do with their whole body.
Pain didn’t stop him.
Ignorance didn’t cancel him.
Impatience didn’t silence him.
This is what pushing past pain looks like.
You laugh because he's different, we laugh because you are the same.
This is resilience.
This is love that stands, trains, and endures.