Happy Birthday

   Beep, beep, beep, it's 4:58 in the morning. Time to wake up the dog, feed him and let him out. Make Kris his breakfast and remember to make the pieces of the muffin small enough that he can eat them without his hands and that his straw is bent so that he can reach it without help. You have 17 minutes before Kris needs to be up so enjoy your sanity on the exercise bike. Scroll Facebook, check Timehop and start a podcast. 

     Shake Kris awake from his coma, cross his arms and legs so you can roll him on his side. Then lay his netting behind him, roll him back onto the net and pull the auto-bed lift into place. Strap him in, all eight straps and press the lift button. Make sure not to crush his junk, he hates that. Lower him into his chair and then unhook all eight of his straps. Grab his Old Spice, lift one arm at a time and rub it in. After he changes his mind multiple times, help him put on his shirt. 

Feel for Chelle yet? We ain't even at the bathroom yet! 

     Put toothpaste on his brush, brush his teeth, he'll complain you're being too rough, then scrub his face. He might complain then too. Once he's in place, pick him up and put him on the toilet. While he's taking a number 2 go take a shower. Brush your teeth, dry your hair, start your makeup and then go help him clean up and get off the toilet. Sounds fun right? Help Kris put his pants on, making sure his fly is lined up so he can independently pee later. Put on his shoes. Continue getting ready for work, Kris will eat his breakfast. We forgot his coffee, he's an asshole without it so quickly go make it.  

     Help Kris put his coat on, give him his lunch you made last night, and start the car for him. Fill Wrigley's Kong with peanut butter before you join Kris in the car. 

     This is 5 days every week, no matter what. Michelle does this graceously, tirelessly, for me. This amazing woman saves me day in and day out. She loves me unconditionally, kisses and hugs me and looks smoking hot everyday. The Grace I see and receive from her is never ending. I love you Michelle. 

Locked Up

      Everyone is having a panic attack these days over Making a Murderer, me included. I watched it all, read fan theories on Reddit and even considered signing the petition to get Steven Avery out of jail. I thought about how it must feel to be locked up, in isolation, for something I didn't do. How mad I would be, pissed at the world, fuming, ready to explode. Then I realized Avery and I have more in common than I immediately noticed. Don't get it twisted, I've never been anywhere close to a sexual assault, nor have I met someone who then wound up dead mysteriously. I have however been shackled and held against my will. I wake up and go to sleep shackled every day.

      ALS has me living like a criminal. I have no control about when I get out of bed. I have to wear certain pants and shoes that my wife has to put on me. I am essentially shackled to my wheelchair every minute of the day. My meals rely on someone else to prepare and feed me. If the remote is out of reach TV ain't happening. I no longer can go for a drive and people tend to stare at me when I'm in public. ALS tries to push me closer and closer to solitary confinement everyday.

      It would be easy for me to say fuck it, give up, blame this pain and suffering on others and God. To be honest, the "f^€# it" comes out of my mouth more times than would like it to. When it does my wife who is far smarter than me points me back in the right direction, directly back into the word of God. I take solace and comfort in this verse, "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him"(James 1:2). I dare anyone to say I'm not under trial, maybe not a trial like Steven Avery, or OJ,  but I can still hang my hat on that verse, it gives me a daily dose of Grace.