About Steph Churchill

*I initially did not have this included, but felt the need to share*

Now, the hard truth about life.  In the beginning of my creating this book, I lived alone with my kitty, Farley, outside of London, Ontario, which is where the rest of my family lives, and where I was born and raised.  My little fuzzy black baby kept me sane throughout the chaos of covid.  I was constantly visiting London (once  the government claimed we were “allowed” to) and found that paying rent for my apartment was pretty ridiculous being that I was rarely there.  Farley had also been adopted in London prior to me moving, so he was a great traveling buddy.  My dad had been diagnosed a decade prior with Parkinson’s disease, and he wasn’t getting any better, so the need to spend time with him was obvious.  My parents and I agreed that it would make more sense for me to move into their condo’s basement where I could finish creating and publishing my book, as well as help my mum with caring for my father.  Parkinson’s is brutal, let me tell ya.  From the start of 2022 to 2025, it goes without saying that witnessing your loved one suffer and their health dwindling day after day is not easy.  I won’t get into the specifics, but I already was aware that I had some pretty serious issues with my lower back, and having to pick someone up after falling time and time again (dead-weight at times) made it that much more difficult.  My mum was grateful for the muscles and insisted that she pay for me to go to a spinal decompression clinic on her cost.  I willingly and gratefully accepted.  That’s when I found out that I literally do not have any “shock absorbers”, or “intervertebral discs” in my lower spine.  None.  Bone-on-bone, and I had been operating like this for years.  Like any caretaker who loves their “patient”, I just pushed through, trying to ignore the pain.  I’d take that pain over and over compared to the sequence of events that came next.  I didn’t get my shipment of books in time for Christmas 2024, so naturally, they arrived long after the season (February) when you actually want to unveil your shiny new book.  My dad was already in rough shape, so there wasn’t much of a celebration anyway.  We all were hoping it wouldn’t be his last Christmas, but sometimes reality outweighs hope, no matter how hard you try to pretend otherwise. Then March roles in and my mom decides to do something she had never in her life done before: fall … in the morning .. over her dog Gizmo’s bed and snaps her humerus bone clean in half.  That’s when it hits me like a ton of bricks: I’m now caretaker for both parents, 2 cats, and a dog.  Truly living the dream.