The Green Family
Told by Kara (Mom)
I expected Jill’s House to give me rest. What I didn’t expect was that it would become my son’s favorite place in the world.
Life has a way of taking unexpected turns.
I’m Kara, a single mom to two incredible kids: Eva, 15, who is a driven, compassionate big sister, and Johnny, 13, who is quite simply the center of our universe. Johnny is funny, loving, endlessly energetic, and almost always dressed in orange, his signature color. Around our house, we joke that it’s Johnny’s world and the rest of us just live in it—and, honestly, that’s pretty accurate.
When Johnny was two and a half, everything changed. He suffered a traumatic brain injury. In those first terrifying moments, I was just grateful he survived. What followed was something doctors still can’t fully explain. Johnny’s recovery—his resilience, his progress, and his very presence—is nothing short of miraculous. Still, we were told he would never develop beyond the level of a nine-year-old and would always require full-time care—my full-time care.
The dreams I once had for my life shifted overnight. I had once imagined becoming the first female president of the United States. Now, my world revolved around doctor’s appointments, therapies, IEP meetings, and constant vigilance. Every day starts early and moves quickly. There are good days and very hard days. As Johnny grew, the weight of doing everything alone became overwhelming. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, not even long enough to take a shower.
During one particularly long, exhausting weekend, I found myself searching online late at night, unsure of what I was even looking for—just hoping there might be something, anything, that could help.
That’s when I found Jill’s House.
Even though I desperately needed rest, the thought of leaving Johnny somewhere was terrifying. Would anyone else know how to care for him? Would they see only his challenges, or would they recognize the abundant love and joy in his heart?
But Jill’s House is different. Every single person there loves him exactly as he is. They truly see him and delight in him. Much of Johnny’s life is spent in environments focused on his progress—school, occupational therapy, feeding therapy, and behavior therapy—but at Jill’s House, they meet him right where he is and love him fully in that space.
While at Jill ’s House, Johnny’s first stop is always the playground. He loves riding the bikes and setting up races and “parades” with as many people as he can gather.
I expected Jill’s House to give me rest. What I didn’t expect was that it would become my son’s favorite place in the world. Johnny was once asked if he’d rather go to Disney World or Jill’s House, and he chose Jill’s House. This is a child who dressed as Mickey Mouse for twelve straight Halloweens. When I pick Johnny up after a Jill’s House stay, he asks if he can stay for 100 days.
Johnny doesn’t get invited to birthday parties or sleepovers. Jill’s House is his place to belong, to be celebrated, and to have fun.
For Eva and me, Jill’s House offers something equally meaningful: time—time to reconnect, talk, attend her field hockey games uninterrupted, and simply be mother and daughter. With her approaching college, that time feels priceless.
Jill’s House has also provided me with community. Through parent support groups and retreats, I’ve found friends who understand without explanation—people who celebrate small victories and share in difficult moments. They’ve become our people, our family.
Jill’s House has been part of our lives for six years now, and I truly can’t imagine life without it. To everyone who supports Jill’s House: please know that you are uplifting entire families—families like mine. For that, I am endlessly grateful.
