This is a repost , originally published by Contrary Mom on July 26, 2013. “When we go school shopping, I want to get new sneakers,” Layla says. “My pink ones are getting too small.” My heart starts racing. “We can get new ones,” I tell her. But I probably sound like a zombie, like I have a million … Continue reading
“When we go school shopping, I want to get new sneakers,” Layla says. “My pink ones are getting too small.” My heart starts racing. “We can get new ones,” I tell her. But I probably sound like a zombie, like I have a million times in the last seven months. I’m thinking about my mom … Continue reading
Today I don’t want to grieve. I don’t want to cry, but the dam is breaking. Too strong for too many days and now the crash. I can’t get her out of my head. The last day we spent together before the hospital. It seems so close that I could reach out and grab her … Continue reading
One week before her 63rd birthday last year, my mom got the worst news from her doctors. We knew, almost for certain, that she had pancreatic cancer again. She had already fought off renal and breast cancers, plus pancreatic cancer once. And now the pain in her back had been there for more than a … Continue reading
Contrary Mom 