“‘Mom, can I go to a slumber party?’ It was 5 minutes away. Of course, we said yes. ‘Be careful. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ The mother of the birthday girl became ill, so she asked her daughter to host. Instead, she took our kids to the liquor store, brought 30-year-old men in the house. A helium tank was brought out. My daughter kept pulling her head away. The man insisted it wouldn’t hurt. Nobody saw it coming.”
“She said sorry so many times in the end that I lost count of how often she mentioned it. I wish I would have stopped right there in the middle of all that chaos that death brings and all the stress and regret that comes with it, and just grabbed her hand.”
“Family life will nickel and dime you. It’ll squeeze you until you’ve got nothing left. Then it’ll squeeze you even harder. And right when you think you’re completely tapped out and you don’t have what it takes… You walk in on a moment like this.”
“A man had a sign that said, ‘Tell your future for a gold coin.’ I laughed, and told him my name. He stared at me for a while, told me I had mysterious eyes, then finally said, ‘Tell little Laura it’s okay. She’s safe now. Know it’s going to be ok.’”
“I lost everything. I stepped out of jail with a few one-dollar bills and 3 cigarettes. I was missing a shoe, had blood on my shirt, and one of my fingernails was completely ripped off. I had taser burns on my arm and chest, and zero memory of my arrest. I faced the biggest decision of my life. I had to fight.”
“We purchased a vacation home at the river where we could bring our daughter. Our plan was to start showing Emma a world outside of hospitals. We planned an entire summer there, living happily ever after. Little did I know life had a different plan. ‘What happened?,’ I ask. Something inside me knew Danny was hurt. ‘Don’t go to the hospital, follow those firetrucks!’”
“We are all different in our own ways and are so. damn. valid.”
“Our daughter was missing part of her left arm. Would I look at her differently after her arrival? ‘This is her eviction notice,’ the doctor said. They paused to let me see her. As she turned, I saw her little eyes ever-so-slightly open, looking at me, her mom. My heart melted. She was my perfect daughter.”
“She said, ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ and came home with the bag. At home, she opened the bag, beneath the yarn, to see a granny square blanket that had been started. Mom finished the blanket and drove to the house where the garage sale was. The granddaughter was in tears and hugged her.”
“When did going to the dentist become a break? When did getting a haircut become anything other than a necessity? Why is ANYTHING centered on the mom considered ‘me time’ for her? Sorry y’all, but taking a dump shouldn’t be considered a break if my kids don’t barge in. This has to stop. You want to help a mom be less overwhelmed? Do some of her dishes, laundry, cooking, and child-wrangling.”
