Happiness. It's relative.
I still have those earrings. And the son. But not the t-shirt or white skirt, sad because the white skirt was part of my fancy wedding ensemble when my husband and I were married in the local courthouse a few years before. In Nicaragua… Continue Reading “When We First Met”
I wasn’t there the day my son was born. On no other day of the year is this fundamental truth so striking. He had, or maybe still has, another mother, the one who was there the day he was born. While I’m conscious of… Continue Reading “A Day to Celebrate”
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