They Called Me “Poor Old Mom”—So I Bought a One-Way Freedom Ticket

was warm under my feet.

A pelican swooped low over the waves.

Children laughed somewhere in the distance.

A couple in their sixties held hands as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

And for the first time since this started, I asked myself a question I had avoided because it was too painful:

What if I had done something different when David and Sarah continue reading …