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

that,” she says.

Mine was.

Past tense.

I feel my stomach drop.

She must see something on my face because she adds quickly, “He’s grown now. But I remember that age. It’s like watching fireworks that don’t run out.”

She turns toward me then, and her eyes flick to my beanie, the hollowness in my cheeks, the way I’m sitting too carefully like my body is fragile continue reading …