My name is Edna Grace Younce.  I live in Yonkers, New York, with my 20-year-old son, Michael (Mike) Patrick, and my husband, Ray.  My husband works as a police officer; meanwhile, I stay home, where I take care of my son.

My son is severely handicapped.  He was injured when a 100- pound weight fell upon his head; he was gravely injured.  He lay in a coma for months in a hospital; when he woke up, it was found that he had severe brain damage as a result of the accident.  He can no longer see, talk, or walk; he also cannot feed himself or take care of his personal habits.  He is totally helpless.

It has been very hard these past few years because just a few years ago, Mike was a gifted athlete who excelled at sports like baseball and football.  Now he is a shell of his former self, and it is heartbreaking to see. 

Mike was in a nursing home, but he's now back home with me.  I felt the nursing home staff wasn't doing nearly enough for my son, so I had him brought here, and I am his primary caretaker.  I make sure he's fed (by way of tube), diapered, kept clean, and is comfortable.  If I can't care for him, I have friends or nurses from the home health agency come to help; that way, I can get things done and take a break, even if it is for only a few hours.

I don't regret taking care of Mike.  He is my son; I am his mother.  It is my job to take care of him, regardless of what's happened to him.  I love him too much than to let him linger in a nursing home, where he would more than likely get ignored or wait until something happened to him.  I have had to fight to get him back home; I felt the nursing home wasn't doing anything to help him.

I still grieve over the old Mike verses the new:  I still cry when I think of what he could have been in life.  Now he will never know the joy of getting married, graduating from college, or doing things he enjoyed.  He now sits there in his wheelchair or lies in his hospital bed, waiting for us to take care of his personal needs, oblivious to what is going on around him.  It's depressing, but I am determined to help him the best way I know how.

Well, it is time for me to get Mike's "breakfast" and morning round of medications ready, so I will go for now.  I will write in here agian soon; until then, this is Edna Younce saying so long!  May God bless you always!

~Sincerely, Edna in New York.  :)

*to be continued.*