I Promised My Son Forever—Then Cancer Made Me Count the Months

he calls it a leash.

Because he’s five and his brain works like magic.

Because he refuses to let me float away unconnected.

Mike stares at the drawing like it’s scripture.

I take the paper and press it to my chest.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Leo shrugs, then says, “Can we go to the park again today?”

I smile.

“Not today,” I say. “Momma’s body needs a rest.”

Leo continue reading …