How do I give them the best?

I want to give the best of me, at every turn, to Ani and Christy.
There are times where I look back and think that the best times of my life are gone now. How do I not let that affect my relationships? It's so hard sometimes to be hopeful. I look at Ani's past pictures, I hear people talking about birthday parties with their child and I think that Ani may never have another birthday party like that again. Sometimes it feels like I spend so much time planning for Ani's future just in case she doesn't get drastically better that I start thinking she might not get better and I lose hope. I do NOT want Ani to end up in a nursing home when she's 50, not being able to get around and experience relationships, even if they're pretty much single ended. I want to know the future. I want to know that Ani won't just get parked in front of a TV all day, and not have somebody talk to her presuming that she understands. I want to know that somebody will "converse" with her, tell her that they believe in her, and that they love her.
Back to my point, I find it difficult sometimes to leave any negative presumptions or attitudes in the car and bring all the positive features I can possibly bring to Ani and Christy.

The look

They look up at you,
you are everything.
How do you live up to that look?
You can't explain to them that you're flawed,
you make mistakes, you want take-backs.
They don't care,
they look up at you anyway.

Ani, I want you to know.

I tried to explain to you tonight, but you're only 5.
I am serving you the best I can, and I am happy to do it.
It's frustrating sometimes, but even if you don't give me feedback, I know I'm helping.
This is what it means to be a daddy.

Oh my girl,

Oh my girl,
I see you.
I see you beneath that layer that separates us,
that your laughter so easily penetrates.
I hear you.
I hear your determination in a voice
that doesn't always work.
I feel you.
I feel your soul on your cheek
when I kiss you.
I know you.
I catch the twinkle in your eye,
even when your head won't turn towards me.
I love you.
I know you love me,
your whole being tells me.

Finding my way

I find that if I don't focus on a course through life, or even through the day, I kinda get stuck. No longer can I just coast between the things or events of the day. If I don't have something in mind, I can get a little lost. I don't always digress into being sad, but often that's what happens. That's not to say that when I have my course set and in mind that I don't get sad, I do. But without somewhere to go that's planned (at least a little), I can get stuck in the "how can I go on" problem.

I live with two questions...

Two questions I live with...I want to know the answer to both of them. One answer will be slowly revealed to me as I grow older, and the other answer I won't totally understand until after I die.

The answer to be revealed is "How far will Ani heal?", which is the more important of the two questions. There is nothing I wouldn't give to have Ani healed. Short of that, I want to know how to plan for Ani's future, and provide an interesting and challenging life that is appropriate to her condition at any time. I suffer when I think that she might be bored, trapped in this body, unable to express herself. Self expression was a defining characteristic of Ani before the accident. Of all things in this world, I want to hear Ani's opinions, complaints, jokes, arguments, etc.

The other answer that I won't totally understand is the answer to the question, "Why?". Rationally, intellectually, even spiritually, I believe that it was random chance. However, when I look at Ani, or suffer at the absence of Nate in my life, rationality goes out the window. Why Ani? Certainly she never deserved it. The answer will more likely be in the form that the question "Why?" just doesn't even make sense to ask in this situation. However, even given all that, it still doesn't help.

What joy

I was just looking through some pictures on my laptop and I came across some pictures I took of Ani, Nate and I. My laptop has a webcam in the lid, and there's an application called photo booth that lets you take pictures, like, well, a photo booth. The two kids and I were obviously enjoying it. Then there's the 4 pictures of me kissing each child and each child kissing me. What joy to see these pictures again. Every night, I called my children "precious", and never did I take it lightly. What joy to remember the feel of each child's kiss on my cheek.