“Not even my mom could deny there was actually something wrong with me. She rushed my calamine-soaked body to the doctor. My eyes got as big as sand dollars and my life flashed before my eyes. The only time I had ever heard of a Scarlet Fever diagnosis was on an episode of ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ I didn’t know what to do. So, I did the only thing I could think of in that moment. I cried. My mom slid into the bed next to me.”
“Her skin was scarred from the bombing. She had virtually no hair left. But all I could see were those big, brown eyes with extra-long eyelashes. As we waited at the gate and the plane arrived, the last passenger walked out and there was no Teeba. My heart sunk. There was no way I wasn’t going to answer this calling.”
“Before he even stepped foot into his new classroom, a child on the playground came up to him. At age 5, my son had to come home and tell our family this as we sat around the dinner table. I had to look away so he wouldn’t see my tears.”
“It was Christmas time. I’d just finished getting my tree and laid down when my brother called. ‘Mom passed.’ Time stopped. Silence. I instantly threw up. The next day, I drove home. The first thing I saw was her pile of presents. She’d wrapped them and when she finished, she sat down and never got up again. I wish I could’ve thanked her, told her how much her words meant to me. I thought I had more time but, out of nowhere, time ran out.”
“You will stand in their bedroom and plead that you ‘just want them back’. If you watch the person you love disappear right in front of your eyes, you will start to dissolve too. Those not directly affected won’t understand. It is not the person who uses, but the addiction. And yet, sadly… it is not the addiction that dies, but the person.”
“The tears were streaming down my face as I faced this man, the love of my life, my soulmate. Our marriage hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t even been hard. It was impossible. I spent years in a haze of prescription drugs, lying, manipulation and selfishness. I broke the law, put my children in danger, stole money from church and our personal account to fund my addiction. He had no choice but to take our 3 children and leave.”
“I can remember longing all of my life for a best friend, the kind you see in movies growing up. The girls who spend hours together, basically connected at the hip. I’m finally learning to just be chill about it.”
“After a long year of our kids feeling burnt out, bullied, and unsupported at their private school, we made the difficult choice to bring them home. I wish I could say it was an easy transition or that it immediately felt like the right choice. If I’m being honest, it felt like the only choice. They struggled to go to school each day and their passion for learning dwindled. We knew we had to act fast. So, we dove right in, grieving the life we were leaving behind.”
“I had 3 happy, healthy, perfect kids. Until I didn’t. Zach called home from the school nurse with a headache. I followed our standard rule, ‘You aren’t throwing up, you don’t have a fever. Go back to class.’ For 2 days, he told me his eyes and ears felt weird. I told a friend, a nurse, that my son was holding his head funny. Within a minute she said, ‘You need to get him checked.’ I said, ‘Oh ok.’ Then she said, ‘I mean now.’”
“You didn’t get to hold the spotlight for long, did you? You were my only baby for such a short amount of time. You’ll never remember when you had my full attention, or that you didn’t have to fight for space on my lap. You won’t remember sitting around the table with just your father and I for dinner, or how we used to hover over you at the playground. You won’t remember how much we worried. But we will.”
