Christmas, Baby.
The next morning at the hospital nursery Kitty approached her premature grandson for the first time. The nurse allowed her to hold him and he yawned with a power which awed her. Suddenly there was something small showing its strength by pushing against her grasp. Choosing her.
Long Bang
Five sweaters and a hat find me in the kitchen. Predictably, mother left cigarettes and no note, so I have one over orange juice.
And I make myself concerned suddenly with just where those same mothers have gone absent to, with the indoor weather something now intolerable.
...that few things scar and clarify the soul more than witnessing the death of your parent. If anything screams “YOU, TOO, WILL DIE” it is that experience. How you die becomes a choice but only once you’ve chosen how you live.