
Between Paths and Pages
Family, friendship, disability, advocacy, and several paths through work and life.

Family, friendship, disability, advocacy, and several paths through work and life.

The paper on the exam table crackled sharply beneath me—too loud in a room where silence felt safest . I tried my best to stay completely still. My legs extended in front of me—straight and stiff, just as they always were.
Vacations are supposed to create distance. They offer space from work, from routines, and from the endless to-do lists that seem to govern the hours. Vacations suggest that rest is possible, that the body and mind can recover when placed in new surroundings.

A crosswalk chirps as a bus hisses to a stop. Somewhere, a sensor fails to trigger, and the door remains closed. A wheelchair user turns away while the light changes.

Some things hold on longer than they should. They take in pressure, adjust to strain, and stretch to contain what was never meant to be there. They keep holding, reshaping themselves beyond recognition—until they can’t anymore.

"Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." —Sarah Williams,…

Curiosity, personal boundaries, and the space between strangers.

Pity wears comfort’s face. It speaks in gentle tones, its gaze saying, “I can’t imagine going through that.” Sometimes it smiles and adds, “You’re handling it so well.”

Shadows linger in the room. Light creeps across the table. A clock ticks unseen. The moment should pass, but it doesn’t. A question has been placed between two people, and in its arrival the light hardens.

The terminal is filled with the blur of voices, gate announcements, and the steady rhythm of footsteps. The scent of coffee blends with the salty aroma of pretzels from the nearby kiosk.