When Larissa met Ian at college in 2005, she never dreamed she'd one day be his wife ... and his caretaker. After a tragic accident left Ian without the ability to speak, walk or care for himself, she did what any woman in love would do: she married him.
"There will always be the older white woman in Walmart who stared at us with sheer disgust, or the African-American mother who looked at us and just shook her head.”
Why are we missing it? Why are we so focused on ourselves that even in times where we should be consumed by nothing but awestruck wonder, we miss the wonder altogether and instead replace it with the cheap thrill of another self-glorifying photo?
