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

because that’s what I wanted him to be—the smell of Sunday morning, even when I’m not there.

The batter splatters. He burns the first one. Leo doesn’t care. Leo never cares about imperfect pancakes.

He cares that we’re together.

He cares that I’m here.

And that’s what makes my chest ache the most.

Because I know what he doesn’t.

Because I carry a countdown continue reading …