I had a late flight into Tampa, and my dad met me at the airport. I'd already seen a picture of the baby, the mask pulled over her eyes, all the wires and tubes. But it wasn't until I saw how exhausted he looked, waiting for me in the terminal, that I realized how serious things were. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look unsure. He seemed a hundred years old.
Read moreOh, wow, something is in my eye...
A good day
In the worst of it, when the clot lodged in our daughter's heart and her skin swelled to the brink of bursting and her lungs kept sending her into a free fall toward zero, my wife asked the doctor a question: "Could she still go to kindergarten?"
Read moreDear Simone,
You are probably only beginning to really grasp what it’s like to be one of the most famous people on the planet. I just wanted to tell you what you mean to one little girl.
Read moreTalking with Big Mike about Little Juniper
Michael Glab, a sweet bear of a guy who everybody calls Big Mike, is a writer and editor who works parttime at one of my favorite places in Bloomington, the Book Corner. In one of my many lost afternoons wandering through the bookstore's aisles, I told Mike about the upcoming release of Juniper, and he invited Kelley and I onto his show down at WFHB community radio to talk about our story. Kelley couldn't make it that day, so I went solo and tried to speak for both of us -- a risky proposition, if you know Kelley.
Read morePlaylist for a 1-pound baby
The lyrics allude to things my daughter has never experienced: Rain falling on her skin. A dog barking in the distance, the call of an ice cream truck on an empty street. The ticking of a clock on a wall. Night, giving way to morning.
Read more