Maddie’s Butterflies And What DIPG Needs For A Cure

I don’t often post things that are totally specific about myself or my life. Old stories? Yes. Vague generalities without names? Absolutely.

But today I’ll make an exception for a reblog of this beautiful post.

Maddie is my granddaughter.
Kelly is my daughter.

And of course there is more to the story.

Praying for everyone.

Sometimes life really sucks, ya know?

CARRIE'S FACES OF HOPE

This afternoon I trekked to my neighborhood’s GINORMOUS garden center with a very specific mission in mind:to take pictures of butterflies. I didn’t care about the type nor the color of butterfly, I just needed one of them to hold still long enough to take a few pictures.

Turns out they are sadistic little suckers who have attention spans of preschoolers. I spent a better part of a hour, dodging mud puddles, chasing them around, as they haphazardly flitted from flower to flower.

Psssssst….” An amused onlooker finally hissed at me through a sea of orange and yellow flowers. “There is a butterfly right here.”

Mission accomplished. A beautiful yellow butterfly was tucked amongst the flowers. And unlike his flappy-winged counterparts, he allowed me to take as many pictures of him as I wanted.

Now, I am sure you are thinking that chasing butterflies…

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