“I called my dad crying and told him the truth. I was living a secret life, raising a 4-year-old. Not once did he scold me or judge me. He came to my rescue.”

“I called my dad crying and told him the truth. I was living a secret life, raising a 4-year-old. Not once did he scold me or judge me. He came to my rescue.”
“I knew he was special when he asked me if I slept on a silk pillowcase after he’d watched an episode of ‘This Is Us.’ All of a sudden he was noticing more things about black people, black hair, black culture. And then here I came along; he wanted to know how to be the best man for me and it all started with a pillowcase. He wanted to know if I needed one so if I ever forgot mine, he’d be prepared.”
“I contemplated if I was in love with the pills and white powder he seemed to always have or if I loved him. Any loyalty I had eventually shifted to the drugs.”
“The system isn’t perfect. Gifts aren’t always easy or life-changing or neatly packaged. Little things like spending more time outdoors with my kids during the pandemic can be a gift within a tragedy. I’ve also had hardships that didn’t seem to yield any gifts.”
“My doctor scanned back and forth. ’There’s two.’ I looked at my daughter, who had her arms folded. She said, very matter-of-factly, ‘I told you.’”
“We met when online dating was considered ‘unusual.’ We were two black women from conservative households. We made the life-changing decision to embrace the unknown.”
“I line up rocks with my daughter at the park instead of watching her play with peers. She is a CHILD, not a milestone checklist.”
“At the foot of the crib, I saw something I’d never forget for the rest of my life. The doctor had written, ‘There’s no chance of having a meaningful life.’ I was crushed.”
“It looks like looking into a dirty mirror, taking a silent selfie I’ll surely put a filter on later, flashing a goofy-*ss grin, feeling proud I ran two miles, mowed the lawn, and got a shower in while the kids are at grandma’s. Then we remember, alas, it’s only Tuesday, and though the kiddies have a day off of school tomorrow, it’s back to work, the grind, and the monotony a typical Monday through Friday delivers.”
“‘Why me?’ she’d ask. But I was 22 and very much alive, how could I know? ‘We aren’t done fighting.’”