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Of course, you’ll never be the same but you don’t want to be. I suppose that’s the price we pay for love.

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Find adventure, find love, find genuine connections. Keep learning. Take an extra cookie.

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My grandmother never taught me to be scared. She was light, and laughter… a pen pal, a side kick. My Peter Pan.

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We both realized that you were no longer the sweet, caring Grandmother we had always known. Somewhere along that past year your sanity had slipped away from you.

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“Then a shape got caught in the beam of my flashlight and I felt my heart skip a beat. It was shaped like a leg, a baby’s leg, like it’d been ripped from the socket.”

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You may be gone, but you live on in all of us.

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Because loving them brings humor and grace into your life.

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She watches him tenderly, engages him openly, and gives of herself freely. Now a mother herself, she tells me, she wants to give her boy the mother she has. What she fails to realize is she already did.