The Greediest Mother

I am the greediest mother. I have written about the hand-wringing and soul-crushing that comes with being Owen’s mother. I have told the tales of heart-soaring  and hope-reviving moments, too. At the beginning, we weren’t allowed to stretch our dreams too far. We had arms and legs moving. Eventually, he was breathing on his own. [ Read More ]

I Thought We Had More Time.

  I sad because my legs no work so good.  I no run fast like Parker. My legs no work. It’s the heavy silence that follows the bomb dropping, where all you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat pounding out its instantly accelerated rhythm in your ears, followed by the air slowly leaving [ Read More ]