A Family Tradition - a Column by Carlos Briceño

My wife is extremely low maintenance. For instance, she’s allergic to chocolate and flowers, so she doesn’t want either for Valentine’s Day. Even if she weren’t allergic, she still wouldn’t want them because she believes Valentine’s Day is a manufactured holiday. So we essentially don’t acknowledge it. (However,…

My wife, Jill, excels at many things. She’s an excellent cook, gift giver, and advice dispenser. She also excels in her dislike of visiting a doctor’s office. As I’ve written before, she has “white coat syndrome.” But we have received some potentially awesome news that might ease some of…

Thanksgiving always seems to occur out of the blue, and this year was no different. One minute it’s summer and the weather is warm. You blink, and the leaves are changing. Blink again, and daylight savings time ends. And then you wake up, and it’s Thanksgiving. My family differs from…

This week’s column was going to be about patience, but before I could write it I received a text from my wife, Jill. She asked if I had used our credit card at a place where I don’t normally shop. The answer was a resounding no. My wife handles…

So which is worse: a long, drawn-out illness or a sudden, unexpected death? As the caregiver of a loved one with Huntington’s disease, I’m dealing with someone who is going to be suffering for a number of years. What my wife, Jill, will endure will not be a walk…

Author’s note: This column is for anyone with Huntington’s disease or their family and friends. Dear Huntington’s community: Many of us don’t know each other, but we are bound by our suffering, heartache, pain, sorrow, and grief. And also by our hope, love, and mercy. We are linked together by…

The first time I met Jill’s father was interesting. I hadn’t met someone with Huntington’s before, but Jill had told me all about it. Huntington’s was a movement disorder, and she had a 50 percent chance of inheriting it. I researched Huntington’s before meeting Jill’s father, but seeing the…

I put my car in reverse and looked at my wife, Jill, in the back seat, trying valiantly to stay positive. I looked at my daughter, Alexus, in the front seat. She looked like she’d just lost her best friend, but she was talking and acting like everything was fine.