The Start of it all

The beginning

Part one

I never knew or met my father growing up. For that, I am grateful. My mother had divorced my biological father shortly after I was born, to save my sister and me from suffering a fate worse than death.

My sister, Kimberley was three years older than me. She was born with a condition called spina bifida -which is a congenital condition in part of the spinal cord (a thick column of nerves extending from the brainstem to the lower back, functioning as a vital link between the brain and the rest of the body) and it's meninges (the three layers of protective membranes that cover and protect the brain and spinal cord) are exposed through a gap in the bone.

Spina bifida can cause a wide range of issues, from intellectual to paralysis. Unfortunately, she had the most issues that came with having spina bifida.

Though not all hope was lost, she had amazing upper body strength and was able to scoot herself around -like a toddler first learning to crawl. She was tenacious.

When I began my journey of crawling, my sister would follow me around and mimic my movements. This was beginning of our boding and the start of something I'd never dreamt of...

But then she had a stroke that left her in a coma. This had caused other medical problems. She became partially brain dead and was paralyzed from the waist down. Her cognitive development couldn’t surpass that of a five-year-old child.

Her challenges, her struggles of everyday life didn’t stop her from being who she was. She was a cheerful person who saw the world differently from others. She had a childlike imagination that captured the hearts and minds of everyone she interacted with.

​My sister would tell unimaginable stories with such vivid and active personifications; it was hard not to be intrigued. Her active imagination went beyond what most could devise.

​The couch would get into a fight with the chair and rumble around and bump into the door and fly through the window.

Kimberley would get so happy telling these stories. She would laugh so hard each time.

​Her laughter was infectious to those around her, and they would join in her laughter, soon she would have the whole room laughing so hard they were in tears.

​Because of her brain development, Kimberley couldn’t communicate the way most people could. Her stories were her only communication with others. This was her history she was making.

​After she passed away, I made it my mission to help others write their stories and make their own impact on the world. Just as my sister has done with me and many others.