Our journey through the darkness

(A poem, to be read slowly)



Dear Malachi,

Sometimes it's so hard that I can barely stand.

I get so sad... mad.

For you. With you. At you.

Like you, I have no idea what to do; I don't even know where to begin. Everything I try feels wrong somehow.

I feel like I should be able to do this. I should know what to do; it's right there on the edge of my consciousness.

Just out of reach.

Am I pushing you too hard? Not enough?

How do I find the balance to helping you find your balance? Where are the keys to your cognition ignition? Whose shoes do I have to put on for you to walk a mile? A block? A single goddamn step?

I've no idea where we're going, Malachi, and what I really don't know is how we are getting there.

But when you can't see where you're going, I suppose the best option is to go slowly and to hold on to something in the darkness.

Hold my hand, Malachi. Show me where to place my feet.

Move me.

Teach me.

Forgive me.

Together now, baby steps.

Let's go.


Our Kickstarter campaign for the beautiful board book Dark & Light: A love story for babies is doing phenomenally well. Please consider buying a copy for the babies in your life (there's always that stray baby shower to attend, right?). The book is inexpensive and 100 percent of the profits from the campaign will go to Malachi's medical needs.