Whether we have a chronic disease or something else that presents a challenge in everyday life, we all do what we have to do to get through each day. Sometimes that means simply putting one foot in front of the other. But if we stop to recognize what we're up against, we can face our obstacles head on and go beyond just scraping by. It is from that point that we can begin to heal and grow. This is the story of a stressed out mom who learns an important life lesson - a universal truth - in the least likely of places, from the least likely people.

*The names of some people and places have been changed.

"You're not going."

"I am, too."

"There's no way at age 17 you're going to New York City alone to spend a weekend with a bunch of weirdo's you've never met."

"They're not weird, mom. They're probably the sanest people I know. It's all set, mother, I'm going and there's no way you can stop me!"

As a mom I'd fought many battles, but did I really want to die on this hill? In desperation, I did what any self-respecting over-protective mother would do. I decided I'd fly a thousand miles with my daughter, Paige, to the Goth Convention. Of course I had my doubts. Big ones. This could turn out to be a really bad idea. But, my husband suggested I make the best of it by inviting my good friend, Kelly, who had just endured her own parent's worst nightmare by losing her five-year-old daughter, her only child, to a long battle with cancer. So there we were, three women, each with more baggage - actual and otherwise - than anyone should have to bear. And off we went.

As a mom I'd agonized over the fact that my beautiful daughter did not become what I'd hoped for her to be. Since the day she was born I'd wanted her to have the most wonderful life; as an accomplished child, a successful student, kind hearted, well-liked, attractive and popular - maybe even a cheerleader or Homecoming Queen (or both). Yet, be a normal child leading a carefree life - just one of the crowd. Fact was, since the day she was born, she was contrary at every turn, exceedingly obstinate, allowing me little sleep, and even littler peace. In spite of a very high I.Q. and physical beauty she struggled in school, academically and socially. She had always been a sensitive, tender hearted girl, but an awkward social outsider with a sort of distance about her, a sadness. Within the differentness none of us could understand, Paige went well out of her way to be anything and everything different than the other kids in school. I was almost, strangely, relieved when she seemed to find her way to acceptance from people of the Goth persuasion who were more like her; intellectual and off-beat (odd, by most standards, yes, but no more Satan worshippers or cult members than we). My dear daughter, no longer just a dim shadow of a girl I felt I never really knew, seemed recently to be emerging from the gloom. She was smiling again. The few friends she'd found were rebellious, yes, but also seemed to have quiet, peaceful hearts and a penchant for their own special brand of art, literature, history and fashion.