Today is our last official day in our (former) home of over 30 years. A home that housed first my grandparents and mom, welcomed both me and my brother as babies as I recently learned, and then me with various roommates and eventually my own family. It’s been the home both me alone and together with my husband have both lived the longest and the only home Cole has known.
Leaving it is a necessity as we’ve needed a different sort of space for Cole a decade. We’ve needed a different bathroom set up with a wider hallway that would allow us to use a bath chair support that wheels from his bedroom to the bathroom – that doesn’t require us to carry him to and from the shower, angling him just right so he’s not bumped into walls or corners. We’ve needed more open space so he can easily be wheeled throughout, or be seated, whether in his wheelchair or on a designated chair, so that he can be more part of daily life.
To be fair on this point, as with most young adults, he has little interest in hanging with us while we cook dinner or watch the news in the morning, but not having the option has never sat well with us (as evidenced by the countless attempts to find a non-wheelchair chairs that adequately support Cole’s challenged body. That’s a whole other story but we did recently discover that the Love Sac framed chair suits him fairly well so we’re adding it to our new family room with the hope that he might change his habit of only hanging in his room in our new space.
We’re still in the throes of packing up the last of our stuff – a process that feels freeing in many ways and difficult in others. Far too many memories tied to things that then connect to the human aspect of the same memories that tug at the heart. We’re doing our best version of Swedish Death Cleansing (IFKYK) so that we can travel into this next chapter less tethered to things and stuff.
Tomorrow will be a jumble of emotions and a lot of work and more than anything, a fresh beginning together because wherever we three reside will always be home.
HOME – Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
August 9, 2026
MOVING OUT (Billy Joel)
July 17, 2026
It’s official. Escrow closed on our beloved home of the past 30 years, and we now have the keys to our rental home where we will spend at least the next two years. I’m still feeling more excited about the possibilities of living differently in this next chapter and the accessibility this new house will provide for Cole. Nothing is more important to me than him having the space and supports to better access the whole house, and particularly to be able to shower safely.
Cole has seen the house on a quick drive-by but Saturday I’ll take him inside. I’m not sure he’ll be able to envision the space with our furniture and set up as “home” but I think he needs to see it to be able to start to envision himself there. He’s only known this house and despite the excitement he has expressed about moving, it’s not something he’s experienced. He has close friends who moved house a few years ago so I know he understands it but it’s hard to know if he has any particular attachment to this house.
I’ve been trying to get him invested and involved in terms of what his new space will look and feel like. We’re upgrading his bed from a twin to a full which means updating his bedding and the frame. He’s excited about that and chose a colorful bedspread with navy sheets and a wood frame (as opposed to upholstered) for his adjustable bed. It’s all a bit more grown up than his current set up and more colorful. He’s got a lot of art and wants to be in charge of where things will go and which pieces might not make the cut. The Basquiat “Monkey Butt” stuffy stays!
The big purge and pack process begins now too. We’ll take early all of our furniture but I’m determined to lighten the weight of the “stuff”. How many vases, knick knacks, serving platters does one really need? I have a huge storage box outside filled with our outdoor entertaining dishes and tableware – I need to scale it down. I want to scale it down. I’ve traveled with my parents old Hellerware since the 80’s and it will continue to follow me to the new place but a lot of the other stuff can go. I realize we (mostly I) have to be fierce about the purging – if it’s not an immediate, visceral, YES, it goes. Same with closets and housewares.
This move represents freedom for us in many ways. Most importantly for Cole who will have the freedom to access so much more of our home, with greater ease and safety. Despite the decades I’ve spent in this house, either visiting my grandparents, or living here, unexpectedly, I’m feeling more lifted by leaving it than I thought I would. I have so many wonderful memories tied to it that I’ll carry with me wherever I go (thankfully memories don’t take up literal space) and I know we’ll be creating even more memories in our new space…For today, we pack and purge!
The Waiting (Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers)
July 5, 2026
We’ve now toured six potential rental homes, applied for two, been rejected for one, and are now waiting for news about the other. Having lived in the same house for thirty-five years (I lived here before Dan and I bought it), I’ve not played the waiting game before and it’s excruciating. You want to plan and imagine yourself in a space. You want to figure out what will go where. You want to figure out how each room will be used.
The house we are waiting on right now is twice the size of our current home – a post war 1,148 square foot house with two bedrooms and one bath – yes three of us have shared a tiny single bathroom for almost three decades. The house we hope to move into is five bedrooms and three baths -what the hell will we do with three baths!?! It’s got an open floor plan with a beautiful kitchen and pantry and a proper dining room and five bedrooms. It would allow us to set up a proper office for Dan who has worked exclusively from home since Covid, designate a gym space, have a dedicated guest room and bathroom for anyone who wants to come visit, or an aging parent in need. It also has a pool, a pretty view and there are great hiking trails just up the hill. Plus, we have good friends in the area and it’s closer to a lot of Cole’s activities. So we wait, as patiently as we possibly can…
Everything about this experience of contemplating moving house, selling our current home, and searching for the right house has been kind of fun. There’s of course stress mixed in because moving is one of the most stressful transitions in life, along with divorce, death of a loved one, job loss and long-term illness. I’d argue that at least with moving and eventually divorce, there exist great upsides too.
I’ve stressed to both Dan and Cole that I hope to live differently in the new space. I want us all to find new ways to use the space and surroundings to inspire us to find new habits and routines. I can’t say what the specific changes will be but I feel determined not to fall back on current habits. I know I need to be more active and exploring my new neighborhood (on foot) will be a great way to get moving more, perhaps with Jude the Cavapoo in tow. I would very much like to encourage Cole to join us in the family living space – for years he’s had no interest in being anywhere but in his bedroom, watching YouTube, without us around. I’m hoping we can break this cycle and introduce movies nights or little kitchen dance parties to get him back into wanting to hang out with us a little more. Fingers crossed…
I love that we can have houseguest, who can finally feel like they have a little privacy in our space. Our guest room currently is the den, Dan’s office, and the guest space. There are no doors on the room, so we hang curtains in the doorways for privacy and we all share the tiny single bathroom. It’s never been ideal but it’s the best we had. It will feel so wonderful to welcome friends or family to stay with us in a house that has actual space and room for guests.
I can dream all day if I want to but for now it’s just waiting and as we all well know, the waiting is the hardest part…
Time of the Season (The Zombies)
September 25, 2024
It’s a new season…It’s fall…
It’s been years since I last posted anything of note. I find myself living in my head so need the outlet of putting thoughts to paper so to speak. Not that any paper is involved. I feel like this is a pivotal moment in my life as well as that of my family’s. September is our shared birth month so new trips around the sun starting this month and new happenings. I think I’ll start with Cole with this re-entry into sharing.
Cole’s now 23 which I find hard to believe 23 years have passed. Having a child (young adult) who is dependent upon you for pretty much everything is a complicated existence. No matter the circumstances, bringing a child into the world, into your world, means making the child the priority. It means significant changes to your life, including unconditional love, joys and sorrows, frustration, jubilation, pride, purpose and so so much more. However, having a special needs child who is dependent on you for accessing the world, and small bits of life like personal care, mobility, communication, feeding, transferring, socializing, really, everything, is more than an outsider can imagine.
Besides all of the daily needs and tasks that go into helping create and shape a life, there is a constant need to advocate for your child in ways that parents of typical children don’t have to. It can be a full time effort to manage healthcare, insurance, social security, and conservatorships. It can be a full time effort to find the best placement or programs where your child is not marginalized, ignored, or abused.
Just before Cole turned 22 he aged out of our school district where post high school he had been attending a “CTC” (career transition campus) where he spent weekdays working on life skills, having social and community opportunities, and a focused class path (he did film production the first two years and then moved into the social media class for the duration). Knowing this would end at 22, we put him on waitlists for the handful of adult day programs in and around Los Angeles. There are actually very few programs that are appropriate, or willing to support, a young adult with Cole’s significant needs, that simultaneously are appropriate and willing to support his interests and social needs and curiosity.
At the end of the CTC, we were no closer to getting into a choice program so opted to place him in one that had availability as a transitional placement. The staff was kind, friendly and treated Cole well. He was bored, frustrated, and unhappy and it showed in his behaviors at home for the almost year that he attended. There was very little engagement, peer to peer socialization or stimulating activities. It mostly felt sad. He did not thrive, though we all agree, even in hindsight, that it was better than him staying at home every weekday doing nothing more than watching YouTube or TV while we attempted to juggle full time work and his needs.
Cole finally did get into our top choice of day programs and is starting his third week there. It’s out of our county so transportation is not provided and we’re driving at least three hours a day to get him there and back home but for now it feels worth it. From the first day his mood coming home flipped. He’s been happier, calmer, and more cooperative. He’s feeling like his days are more fulfilling. He has friends at the new program and their days are filled with activities like zumba, creating art, learning computer skills, and when downtime is needed, lounging together out of their wheelchairs watching an episode or two of Friends (one of his favorites). There will be community outings as things get more settled and chances to learn how to sell their art online, creating an opportunity for the participants to feel valued and seen. It took a lot of work and time to get him into the program (don’t even get me started on the reams of paperwork that are required), and the driving in LA morning and late afternoon traffic sucks (100 miles a day!), but knowing he’s now attending a program where he has social interaction and is making new friends, and doing all sorts of different activities, and is happy to attend is everything.
Beyond the weekdays, Cole’s still dancing on Saturday mornings and continues to love it. Music plays such a big part of his life and we took him to see Vampire Weekend (one of his favorites) and English Beat over the summer at the Hollywood Bowl (an iconic LA outdoor venue) and he loved it. I’m taking him to see Suki Waterhouse at the Greek Theater (another outdoor venue) next month with friends and hoping he’ll have the same positive, fun experience. We’re also taking him to see Ina Garten (the Barefoot Contessa) on her book tour and I’ve reached out to her team to see if she could spare a minute to do a quick “Meet and Greet” with him. She has been Cole’s favorite Food Network star since she first aired in 2002. He’s loved her for most of his life so it will blow his mind to see her in person and hopefully to meet her. We also have tickets to see “American Idiot” play later this fall. He loves Green Day and I thought it could make for a fun theater experience.
Cole doesn’t gravitate to all of these kinds of events because his anxiety gets the better of him but because these are the kinds of activities where he has good social opportunities as well as the entertainment value, I keep trying to get him to embrace the experiences. It really helps when there’s familiarity but going with friends helps a lot too. More than anything, I never want him to feel like he’s missing out on things that could bring him joy.
He’s still doing private speech and now working on a new “language” because when he aged out of our school district coverage, we had to return the communication device he had been using since high school and procure one ourselves. His new device (a Grid Pad) uses PODD software (Pragmatic Organization Dynamic Display). It’s different from what he was using for the past eight or so years so he’s been working to learn and utilize the new device. It’s not completely starting over but it is a new language. I typically describe it as he learned to speak Spanish, and is now learning Italian. Both are Romance languages and there are similarities so picking up Italian will be easier because he knows Spanish. He’s doing okay with it but could do better. He chooses not to use it more often than he should because using eye-gaze to communicate is taxing and hard and sometimes just too time consuming for him. We can’t seem to impress upon him how freeing it would feel to be successfully communicating his needs, wants or just dumb jokes. Sigh.
I feel like I could share so much more but this also feels like a good update, and writing is much needed and welcome release, even if no one winds up reading it. Just getting things out of my head brings clarity, so thank you if you happen to come across my musings and take the time to read.
The Dangling Conversation (Simon & Garfunkel)
October 7, 2021
Quarantine has brought out the worst in my conversational skills. Having considerably fewer opportunities for actual, in person conversation and too much time spent alone, in my head, talking to myself, I’ve lost touch with the art of conversation. I find my excitement to be talking to someone outside my tiny circle leaves me tongue-tied or over-anxious to speak, thus interruptive.
As life started to open up a bit more and I’m socializing with a somewhat broader group of friends, I notice the decline of my communicative finesse. I catch myself interrupting, or worse, getting caught up in my head, having internal chat with myself. It has become a frequent cause of upset with my husband, which doesn’t make the 24/7 we continue to spend together exactly blissful.
As much a I am content on my own, I have always treasured friend (and family) time. Sharing an evening with a dear friend, enjoying a long, lingering meal and endless conversation is one of my most favorite ways to recharge. I love nothing more than to get lost in a conversation that weaves to and fro with twists and turns that eventually lead back to the beginning. It confounds my husband that these conversations seem never-ending.
Back in the day of landlines, I’d spend hours on the phone with school friends, doing our homework “together”, dreaming of boys we wanted to kiss, places we wanted to go, which lipglosses were the best (Bonne Bell Dr. Pepper!), and back to boys (of course). Those silly, intimate, protracted conversations are in part what our friendships were built upon. They filled out the gaps in the day to day hanging out and chatting. They connected us in ways that still hold true today. To this day the girls I hung out with, some since age nine, the rest since middle school, remain among my dearest. We still see each other, still share cherished memories, and still have silly, intimate, protracted conversations over forty years later.
With shared conversations being something that I relish, the fact that I’m noticing the regression in my conversational dexterity after these seemingly endless months of semi-isolation leaves me feeling a bit anxious to be back in more social settings. Though I hope that the increase of practice will have a positive impact and bring me back to good graces before I’m lost inside my head for good!
I Won’t Back Down (Tom Petty)
October 6, 2021
Today is World Cerebral Palsy Day. It’s not a celebratory recognition day but more of an informational and support day. An advocacy day. The fact of the matter is that cerebral palsy is never going to be a welcome diagnosis. It’s a lifetime, uncurable diagnosis. Cerebral Palsy impacts over 17 million people worldwide so it’s far more common than most people recognize.
From the start, learning your baby has cerebral palsy triggers feelings of guilt, grief, uncertainty, sadness, and fear. It also incites our need to protect, learn, advocate, educate, and more than anything love. Cole’s birth was one hundred percent not what I expected. I had a healthy pregnancy. I loved being pregnant and the love I felt for the growing baby boy in my belly felt so intimate and unlike anything I’d ever felt. I fantasized about his arrival and the joys of watching him grow and thrive and meet all of life’s milestones. I imagined the kind of boy he’d be and all of the things we would share together, as a family.
However, life had a different course for us to navigate. Cole arrived via c-section, not breathing for nearly 12 excruciating minutes, ultimately requiring five weeks of NICU support before he could come home. It was determined that at the tail end of my pregnancy, I was exposed to a child who likely had Fifths Disease (Parvovirus B19 – a fairly common childhood virus that has cold like symptoms with rashy pink cheeks, also known as “slapped cheek rash”). It’s generally harmless but can be fatal to fetuses in utero. In our case, I showed no symptoms or illness, nor did I have any awareness of my exposure, but Cole and I both had antibodies, discovered by the battery of tests run following his birth. It caused him to retain almost a pound of excess fluid, which led to him to stop breathing at birth.
Thankfully, he defied the odds and “the next hours” became “tomorrow” and “tomorrow” became “next week”. I had the most basic understanding of what Cerebral Palsy meant. I have a 2nd cousin, who was in my dad’s generation, who has C.P., though no one ever called it that. In the early weeks and months, it didn’t matter. What mattered was doing everything possible to support Cole. He went home after five weeks in the NICU with a g-tube for feeding because he wasn’t able to suck.
No one really helps to prepare you to parent a child with cerebral palsy. It’s never part of the imagined outcome of your baby’s story. Once home, we quickly got into a crazy routine of eat, sleep, pump, sleep, eat…repeat. We were blessed to have a friend who happened to be a pediatric physical therapist, who kindly taught us a series of exercises to do with Cole to help coax his body to roll, stretch and move. We quickly started a daily program of attending physical, occupational, feeding and speech therapies, and then supporting the therapies with at home work as well.
We filled our heads with knowledge, and armed ourselves with a tough exterior of “we’re okay”. We weren’t really but we learned pretty quickly that no one, even family, wants to know the reality of our day to day. No one wants to hear about the loss of dreams. The truth is there’s no real opportunity to adequately mourn the loss of the child, the life of the child, you imagined, or the life as a parent you dreamed of whilst preparing for your baby’s arrival.
The other reality is that fierce, unwavering love you have for your child and your determined desire to ensure that his life is happy, rich and full leads you to learn to advocate, research, connect and to tap into strengths in yourself that you never knew existed. You become more compassionate, resilient, creative, and inclusive. You throw your efforts into ensuring that the world is more understanding and accepting of people with disabilities and differences. You do your best to support and seek out opportunities to enrich your child’s life by finding inclusive activities, encouraging friendships, and following your child’s lead.
We become the best version of ourselves so that our children can become the best version of themselves.
Don’t Stop Me Now (Queen)
October 4, 2021
One of Cole’s new dance routines at iDance is to Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now. It’s one of my favorite songs to dance around the house to and to belt out in the car when no one (or only Cole) is listening and as teen was part of my “dancing with myself” repertoire (along with a few other songs on the Jazz album). But I think that song also has served as a mantra of sorts for me since I first heard it in 1978. I listened to that album over and over again and reveled in the power of Fat Bottomed Girls (which I believed myself to be), the teasing sexuality of Let Me Entertain You (which I admittedly have always thought would be a perfect strip tease song), the longing and romanticism of Jealousy, Dreamer’s Ball and Seven Days, and the anthemic positivity of If You Can’t Beat Them and Don’t Stop Me Now. I still love to listen to that album in order, track by track.
So watching Cole learn a routine to Don’t Stop Me Now of course put the song in my head all day and took me back to my old bedroom where I’d make up dramatic jazzy dances to it, proclaiming my fourteen year old potential and worthiness. I channeled my inner Freddie Mercury, hoping that if I could muster just a fraction of his seemingly boundless confidence and spirit, I could push through my insecurities and teenage angst and survive middle school. The funny thing is that I still find that song to be motivating, and I still find myself wanting to dance (yes, like no one is watching) to it and experience the freedom and joy it brought to me as a kid. I still find the song makes me want to break out of my head and follow my heart and dreams.
My hope is that it inspires Cole to do the same.
I’ve Been Everywhere Man (Johnny Cash)
October 1, 2021
Though it’s still warm, okay hot, here in Southern California, there are glimpses of fall starting to sneak in. Fall is my favorite season, and admittedly autumn in my neighborhood is not as transitional as it is in other parts of the country, but being a sweater girl (to the degree that I was nicknamed “Sweater” when I was a teen because I loved to wear vintage beaded cardigans and loopy mohairs with my pegged Levis or pencil skirts), I’m donning cozy sweaters the moment our temperatures drop below 75 degrees.
The deluge of advertisements, recipe suggestions and marketing emails that proliferate my computer, billboards and storefronts too indicate that fall is upon us. Halloween, Thanksgiving and the Winter holidays are already filling space on shelves and in our thoughts. The “what are you doing for XX holiday?” queries and plans abound. The pool now gets cold overnight despite the still hot days – the nights are cooling significantly. We’re contemplating our last official swim this weekend.
With this being Cole’s last Saturday with aquatic therapy, it’s now time to come up with weekend outings and distractions for him. For the past four months his Saturdays had him at iDance in the mornings, home for a quick lunch, and then back out to aquatic therapy. He arrives home in the late afternoon, happily exhausted, wanting Sundays to be pretty lazy and calm. Maybe a swim with us, or a long, leisurely drive, or meeting family for breakfast, and then enjoying the rest of his Sunday watching YouTube videos or favorite TV. He is a guy who relishes a day to himself after a long week – Morrisey’s Spent the Day in Bed is his jam…
Having a bit more of the weekend back open means that he’ll need to fill more of it. While I’m happy to let him have his day, I don’t like having two days of the leisurely screen time. With the world opening up a bit more I’m already making plans to do more outings with him (and when it works out, with him and friends because that is definitely his preference). He received a membership for two to LACMA for his birthday making visits to see their exhibits a no-brainer. I’d also like to get back to doing beach boardwalk strolls in Santa Monica – we did them frequently during the throes of quarantining because it felt safe and was calming to be by the ocean, explore some farmer’s markets and farms, take advantage of some of the holiday events like the drive through Christmas lights festival we did last year, and visit other museums in addition to LACMA. Getting Cole on board is not always easy but I’m determined to get him out and about on weekends.
With the weather cooling, exploring outdoors becomes more inviting as well. Cole’s never been to Joshua Tree or Big Sur. If things feel safe to explore beyond our area, I feel like day or overnight trips would make for grand weekend fun. We, as a family, don’t often do short trips but I think that having been cooped up for these past eighteen plus months, the idea sounds heavenly. I don’t feel ready for international travel yet but inching out of our comfort zone is a good start. Baby steps…
Back in the Saddle Again (Aerosmith)
September 28, 2021
It’s me…back after nearly two years. I’m getting back to writing!
I left off with Cole still literally hanging out, in traction, waiting for his spinal fusion surgery at CHLA. We ended up there for forty seven days. Yes, you read that correctly – 47 days! And then due to some complications from pain relievers that caused internal bleeding, we were back for another several days after being home for just a few. The surgery itself was hugely successful. Cole’s spine is straight and long, his organs no longer smushed up into one side of his body, and he gained almost seven inches in stature. The surgery also improved his head control so his access to his eye-gaze Tobii communication device is markedly better and he’s gained confidence from his face front, sitting tall presentation.
We found ourselves settling back at home and into our usual work/school/life routine for about six weeks before Covid19 struck. Dan and I both started working from home exclusively March 18, 2020 and Cole stopped school right after that. On one hand, we’d just spent a month and half together in a single hospital room so being quarantined to our house with a yard and neighborhood to wander felt fairly luxurious. We adapted our days to incorporate Cole’s on-line school needs as well as his entertainment and personal needs. Cole graduated from high school, completing the year on Zoom and having a drive-by ceremony. We created two offices spaces within the confines of our small home and settled into the new (covid) normal.
Oh, and we adopted two kitty brothers who arrived the night of March 17, 2020. They were about a year and half old and I had fallen madly in love with them on a foster site I found whilst we were in the hospital. I’d been keeping an eye on them since late December 2019, and happily they were still available to adopt in March! The foster would only allow them to be adopted together because they were completely devoted to one another (still are). The boys were part of a litter she called the “tea kitties” – each kitten in the litter was named after a tea. Our boys are Oolong and Earl Grey. We kept their names because they’d had them for a year and half already and it felt mean to rename them but had we done so they’d have been Nigel and Reg, respectively.
At this juncture late in September 2021, Cole’s been back to in-person school at a “CTC” – career transition campus – a post high school program sponsored by the LAUSD. The program provides some continued education, life skills, and for those who are able, work training programs in a variety of different fields such as data input, baking, retail, silk screening, car detailing, farming, and more. Cole spent his first year on zoom and is now happily back to riding the bus to and from school, with peers and pals, and enjoying the program. He’s back at iDance and just finishing up two sessions of his summer favorite, aquatic therapy. Dan and I are both still working from home, through in October I’ll start going in a couple of days a week as our offices slowly start to reopen.
It astonishes me how adaptable Cole has been through all of these challenges he’s faced these past couple of years. There have certainly been some low points because being stuck in hospital and then at home with just us would be hard on any kid, any teen, but he got through it all without serious issues. The one thing he implemented, as a measure of self-salvation I suspect, is that he no longer willingly will join us in the living room or dining room to eat or watch TV or hangout. His bedroom became, and continues to be, his sanctuary. He enjoyed going on walks, drives, and visits with us during the worst of the quarantine, and he swam with us and enjoyed having friends over when it started to feel safe to entertain outside in the backyard, but (if I’m honest) like many teenagers, he really didn’t want to hang with us anymore than necessary and for a guy who has little opportunity to exercise his independence, we respect his decision. It saddens me sometimes but I do recall wanting my alone time as a teen so I do understand.
A big impetus of starting to write again is that I find I live in my head and these past eighteen months have not helped that and in fact have made it worse. Writing has always been the best way for me to purge my overloaded brain from everything it’s striving to sort out and process and create. Writing helps to keep me nimble. So, I’m back. No one may be reading (yet) but the simple exercise of writing is enough for me. I actually have a couple of writing projects I’d like to attempt so resuming a daily or weekly practice of writing will be a useful practice in creating as well as the brain purge. I feel positive and excited about what lies ahead!
SOUND OF YOUR VOICE
September 26, 2016
A friend recently shared information about a service that can create a voice for people who do not speak and rely on the use of a voice output device to communicate. Vocal ID can create a voice that closely resembles what your actual voice likely sounds like by using both sound recordings of utterances if you can make them and accessing a voice bank they have to find your vocal match.
I love the sound of Cole’s voice when he uses it successful to speak, and especially when it rings with laughter. I can’t quite imagine how I’d feel hearing him speak and sound like him. The voice his Tobii device uses is a computer generated voice that is somewhat age appropriate, but a voice that is shared by countless others who are of similar age and sex and who use voice output devices. It’s not unique.
Our voices are one of the most unique things about each one of us. With closed eyes, I think I could correctly identify most people I know by their voice. Cole’s is a voice I never imagined hearing, save for the limited vocalizations he makes. To have conversations with him using his Tobii but sounding like Cole would be overwhelming and life changing. I feel like conversation becomes that much more intimate in knowing it would be his voice, unique to him.
I’m just starting to explore how to go about having his voice imprinted and put on his Tobii. I’ll share more as I myself learn more and begin the process. I signed up as a donor too, to bank my voice with the hope that it could be used to help shape someone else’s own voice.
Stay tuned…
I love your brain 