As a Digital Editor of Love What Matters, I'm here to pull on your heartstrings and make you smile. After spending nearly six years as a Digital Reporter for ABC News' "Good Morning America," I'm thrilled to continue sharing touching and inspiring stories that the world is so craving. We can all use more love in our lives -- now you've found the perfect place to get it.
“I entered a self-portrait competition at school at age 8. I was so excited, I dug out my best coloring pens. ‘I don’t know why you’re bothering, it looks nothing like you. You’re never going to win,’ my mother said. These words hit hard, but I entered it anyway. Deep down, I wanted to prove her wrong. When I won, she shrugged her shoulders. ‘They probably just felt sorry for you.’”
“My husband told me without hesitation, he’d get a vasectomy. I thought, ‘Yeah sounds good, but we’ll see if he’s really down for the cause when that time comes.’ We prepared for snip snip day by getting him a bag of frozen peas and tight underwear. He was nervous, but ready. My OB knew of our plan, but kept asking, ‘Are you SURE?’”
“I had a few drinks. Judge me if you want, but I’m allowed. I’ve been 21 for 26 years now, so I’m legal. Wasn’t driving. Not bothering anybody. But, we got lost on the way back. It may have had something to do with my favorite two-word phrase: Mer-lot. Then my daughter called. ‘Hello?’ I over enunciated my words, trying to stand in place, giggling.”
“Furniture blocked off the hallway to give us privacy as we said goodbye. I watched my husband hold his son for the first and last time; I’d never seen him so broken. We held his hands and kissed his head, telling him we loved him, he didn’t need to fight any longer. When the doctor pronounced him, I asked her to carry him to the hospital morgue. I couldn’t do it myself. She swaddled him in a blanket, and left.”
“She was born with a head of thick, jet black, fluffy hair! But overnight, her hair came through poker straight, and pure white-blonde. She looked like a newborn, fluffy chick! Her hair looked full of static, wiry, like sheep’s wool. Slowly, it became worse. Hard to control. It got bigger, wilder as she grew, painful to brush. A lady mentioned it, but to be honest, I thought nothing of it. Then I realized it might be a problem.”
“My 12-year-old daughter appeared in the kitchen after school. She started a conversation the same way she always does – ‘MOM! Guess what?!,’ except this time it wasn’t followed with, ‘Kate likes so-and-so’ or ‘Mrs. O gave us so much homework!’ This time, her face lit up. ‘He told me first!’ I was happy her friend had confided in her, but I was scared for Will. I asked if he’d told his parents yet. The answer was ‘No.’”
“Nick wasn’t ready to let go. His body was a 93-pound shell. Our daughter’s 6th birthday came. I pleaded with him to please try for her. To give her that day. He played games, he sang happy birthday, despite all his suffering. Less than a week later, I came home to find him nearly unconscious on the couch. I told him it was okay to let go. I asked if he was scared. He said, ‘no.’”
“I heard a knock on my door. I opened and saw a young policeman. He told me he had a phone number I needed to call. I quickly realized we had trouble. The officer claimed he didn’t know what it was about (doubtful). I called the number – it was answered by a person at the Boise morgue.”
“I sat between two teenage girls. They were getting louder, being obnoxious. She repeated, ‘Why are your legs so fat?’ The woman next to me berated her for being so rude. I could still hear them giggling. I could feel my face burning. I couldn’t get off the train fast enough. The first thing I did was call my husband, crying, barely able to get my words out.”
“Noah’s eyes widen. He’d almost forgotten about presents. ‘Which one should I open first?’ It’s a small rectangular box. Noah pulls off the paper. ‘Whoa,’ he says, staring at the white box on the carpet. iPhone 7. He can’t believe it. His parents both have smartphones, so do a lot of kids at school. He’s so excited, he barely notices his grandparents get up to leave. ‘Oh,’ he says absentmindedly, ‘Bye.’”
