I'm very busy raising an eight year old grandson who has cerebral palsy and is blind in one eye.
I'm editing several novels and have completed two illustrated poetry books. Currently I'm looking for interested publishers.
Would love to keep in touch with everyone who enjoys my poetry but there is never enough time. If you'd like updates on what's going on, you'll find it here.
Newsletter Dated: 3/4/2003 9:45:38 AM
Subject: Sandy's Chatterbox
My only child, Sherry, and her husband, Sergio, are expecting their first child (her 8th pregnancy). She is three months along.
Doogie (Christian Douglas), who will be nine on April 22, is the only one of her babies to survive. He has cerebral palsy and is blind in his left eye with a prognosis of eventually total blindness (irreversible; ROP due to prematurity of birth @5 months, 3 weeks gestation. Al and I have had permanent, full custody of Doogie since three weeks prior to his fourth birthday.
Saturday Sherry almost lost this baby--began bleeding. She is RH-; the baby isn't. She is seeing the doctor every three days so perhaps, God willing, the baby will be okay.
Meanwhile, we're trying to explain to Doogie (who overheard Sherry and I talking) why mommy didn't want him but is doing everything possible to have another baby. Doogie has become withdrawn and isn't eating much. Currently he has the flu . . . so has been home for several days.
Thanks for listening :)!
I wish to share with you one of my favorite poems.
by Sandra S. Corona
Once at the doctorís (lip-reading) I heard,
ďHis wife is deaf and the child appears blind
any other man would have left them behind.
He must be earning his wings.Ē
I gazed at my husband, weary and worn,
acutely aware of words seldom heard.
How their words cut through the lack of his words.
It oozed, the shock, from my toes to my head
the words Iíd longed for were actions instead.
Yes, Iím deaf and our grandsonís going blind.
Many might have left us for peace of mind.
Heís certainly earning wings.
Sometimes he seems coarse and growls like a bear
yet heís a treasure who has always been there.
Lacking in smooth talk but heís mine for keeps . . .
watching over us even when we sleep.
Through trials of evíry sort, evíry kind
our worries are shared--neíer his or mine;
we are each earning . . . our wings.
May God watch over you and yours.