“I don’t want them to have a mother like me,” my daughter said. I sat in a heap, shoulders bent, my right side propped against the hospital bed. The children were always on her mind when thought processes were not drugged by the mass on her brain stem, or the drip in her arm, and […]Continue Reading
Month: May 2018
That’s What Moms Do
I lay on the couch, one eye open and one shut. An ice cube wrapped inside a damp washcloth balanced on my eyebrow. “I weally sorry, Momma,” he said. His face was level with mine, his eye brows bent into a frown. He peered into my face and focused on my wound. He stood so […]Continue Reading
Mom, I’m such a sinner
The door opened with a bang against my front hall. “Mom!” Something was wrong. My heart revved like a racecar. I wiped wet hands against my apron and hurried to meet my daughter, home from third grade. Charity fell into my arms, a melted puddle of tears. “I’m such a s-i-n-n-e-r!” She wailed. Sobs ripped […]Continue Reading
Have You Opened the Door?
“On Wednesday morning, the first rays of sun were peeking around the clouds,” my daughter Charity wrote. “I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Strange dizziness clouded my mind. I have a fever, I thought. I must be getting sick. Objects around me seemed to move with each turn of my […]Continue Reading