Strokes and vacations!

My “blog vacation” is over! In other words, my son is starting 5^th grade and now I have time to pursue my blog! Is that a good excuse? I do not know. I really needed to take a break and reflect about what has transpired in my life since my strokes.

And, I spent my summer enjoying my life, my recovery, and my family. I spent the summer with our son. I relish the everyday “things” that most people take for granted.

My son has always kept me going throughout the dark times when I just wanted to die because of my strokes almost 4 years ago. He gave me hope and a reason to live. I wanted to see him grow up. I wanted to witness the first days of school and the last days of school.

When our son started school, he went to the BSU Children Center. He progressed to Monroe Elementary for kindergarten. Now, it is in the 5^th Grade at Sacred Heart Catholic School in Boise.

It seems so long ago. I lifetime ago really.

When he started, I could not really attend his events. I rarely dropped him off or picked him up from school.

I was “busy.”

Life has a way of changing our perspective. Illness, strokes, death, and changes are the hallmarks of our life since he started to go to school.

Now that he is in the 5^th grade, I do count my blessings because I am “around” to see my son grow up into a wonderful kid.

I missed a lot of his school “stuff” because I was working and stressed.

In January of his 1^st Grade year, I had my strokes. My parents died 10 months later. I cannot imagine what he experienced.

I am 5 years old. Last year, we were robbed, and I am still scared.

I am 6 years old now. And now, Daddy is in the hospital. What is a stroke? Daddy cannot talk and cannot use his right arm now. He does not even know my name or his own name.

People whisper that Daddy will never be the same. Will he die?

I hate the hospital…the smells and the sounds. I do not want to see Daddy now.

Daddy comes home from the hospital on my 7^th birthday. We go to Red Robin, and I have to help my Daddy to go to the bathroom because he is so scared.

I am 7 years old.

I am so scared.

And now, I might have to change my school. I do not want to change.

Mom is trying to hide a lot my dad so I won't be worried. Why so many playdates?

At school, people whisper.

I do not want to be noticed.

Mom needs help. When she picks me up, other parents do not talk to us. Mom seems alone and sad.

I do not understand about money. What is "tuition?"

And now, my Grandma and Grandpa are sick and then they just died.

What is death?

Why is God doing this to me?

I just want my friends. I just want my life back. I want to be normal.

I want Daddy back.”

Fast forward and the 4 year anniversary of my strokes will be in January of 2016. In September, my parents will have been dead 3 years.

2012 was a devastating year for all. “Annus Horribilis.”

However, we are happy despite of all of “it.” When I get depressed, I just think of our son…our funny, goofy, smart, irreverent, and nice kid. I am grateful for him because he gave me a reason to live. Even now.

The Two Faces of the American Dream

The massive wave of Norwegian immigration to Minnesota from the 1850s through the early 20th century wasn't a casual choice; it was an escape from crushing land scarcity and economic desperation. My ancestors, the Dunhams, arrived in 1851 and built a life in Otter Tail County in Minnesota. My great-great-grandfather, Jens Christian Dunham, didn’t just survive—he thrived. He served in the Minnesota legislature as a Republican from 1888 to 1890 and later became a staunch advocate for President Teddy Roosevelt. He was the literal embodiment of the American Dream: an immigrant who fled poverty to become a lawmaker in his new home. Fast forward a century, and a new wave of immigrants—this time from Somalia—is following that exact same blueprint. Like the Norwegians before them, they fled hardship to build a future in Minnesota, and many have run for office to serve the state that welcomed them. Yet, the political rhetoric surrounding these two groups couldn't be more polarized. Don...

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Dunham Family and My Stroke Story!

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