Here we Go – 2024!

Happy New Year!

I’m starting 2024 with a bit of a free-write update for our friends who are keeping track.

Back in 2013

Marcus and Mardra Sikora smiling for selfie.It was upon the advice of the internet that I named this website mardrasikora.com, however, the overwhelming reason for most visits, is to check out the life, day-to-day and otherwise of Marcus Sikora. (My adult son with Down syndrome.)

This Year’s Holiday

So, let’s talk about Marcus at the family and friends over the holidays. He’s a

Parceling Love and Other Conundrums

Re-sharing today this Free Write that began with the prompt love – and applies to today’s #LoveBlog challenge prompt, vulnerability.

Free-writes are by nature personal and rambling.

Also, because my laptop is having issues, we’re going Avant Garde with punctuation. The question mark will be signified with /.

Enter at your own risk.

Of the 468 blogs currently on my website, the search term “love” brings up 233 results. Of those, 12 “headlines” include love in the title.  So,

Cure

“If you could cure…”

I stopped him, “That is not a fair question.”

The scientist raised his eyebrows.

How can you speak of “cure” when the issue in discussion is in every cell of his body?

What does it feel like to have 47 chromosomes? I wonder. Does it feel different than 46?

Every cell in our body contains our chromosomal makeup.  Cells constantly regenerate, each set (or triplicate) of chromosomes generating and regenerating as well. Sometimes cells in the typical population, triplicate the 21st chromosome, here and there. But it’s scant –

In which I talk about the long hard winter

There was a time when I lived in chronic physical pain. This pain caused a battle between my body and mind. My mind rebelled by slowly killing me.

The war inside of me waged, gradual and nearly invisible…until it wasn’t.

I think of that time like a lifetime behind this one.

When I am reminded of the triggers that prodded me in that life, I am still affected, but differently. Like a reverse acupuncture.

Those winters full of pokes and pain, fear and unworthiness, sit like one long winter in my memory. Scars flare under my skin. It’s an odd sensation, a burning

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