My road came to an unexpected halt on November 9, 2010.

That morning, I was bicycling to work when a garbage truck turned across a city bike lane. I was in that bike lane.

A team of trauma surgeons saved my life, but they had to amputate my left leg. My body and life were forever changed.

The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.

As I learned to walk again, I measured my recovery in steps and then miles. Over time that journey grew into something more -- a way of being in the world, wherever I go.

I am a person of ability and disability. I travel in the space between. These are my postcards.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Unexpected Blessings

Mile Marker 5248:  

"Be sure to tell them about the challah," my dad says.

When I was in the hospital, every Friday afternoon, a challah -- the traditional Jewish Sabbath bread -- was delivered to my room.  From November through December, those loaves of bread measured the length of my stay more accurately than any calendar.