Year after year, I've accompanied my girl into the operating room, to open up her back, just to keep her body from twisting itself.
Day after day, I prepare formula, I only had a 2 year break of doing that, between Ani as a baby and Ani unable to user her mouth to supply nutrition.
Hour to hour, I see the scars on her body, some from the tornado, but mostly through procedures that I've agreed to put her through.
Minute to minute, I try to read the ever-so-subtle variations in the position of her eyes, her cheeks, and her ever changing smile, just to know something about what she's trying to tell me.
And always, I'm looking for changes in her, medically, physically, emotionally, intellectually.
Always I am compiling these changes into my mind, searching for an answer, how can I serve her better, what is something new I can tell the neurologist?
Unless I'm asleep, or "in the zone" at work, my mind is ever busy for her.
I need all the strength and endurance I can get. My faith is powering me, but sometimes I want much more.
I've lost count of how many times I've asked God to give Ani's disabilities to me, to free her.
Always, at my heels, is the question "Why?". As much as I try to keep my rational mind in control, sometimes that question hits me.
There's no answer anywhere, and unless you completely accept that fact, it will drive you insane.
Of course, the true answer of "It was just a random occurrence of weather" doesn't help either.
I'm here for the long haul There's just so many potholes along the way.
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