My father would lift me high. And dance with my mother and me and then. Spin me around til I fell asleep. Then up the stairs he would carry me and I knew for sure I was loved.

When I was larger, people said I was fat. Now that I've lost weight, they say I died.

The best part is still ahead of me - I haven't experienced my 'good old days' yet.

All through school, I was losing hundreds of pounds in school, so that's a journey - that's an old journey. I'm tired of that. I know that road.

One look in your eyes and there I see just what you mean to me. Here in my heart I believe your love is all I'll ever need

I feel a sense of sadness and joy. Mostly sadness though about what I've experienced and sadness about what others have experienced in reference to the stroke.

How I'd love, love, love, to dance with my Father again.