20 June 2016
I watched the bright-red truck roll away. A piece of my heart rolled away with it. My last child was leaving school. Just four days after my first.
I watched the bright-red truck roll away. A piece of my heart rolled away with it. My last child was leaving school. Just four days after my first.
Mothers dry tears, they comfort, they encourage. They do not shout “Hold up! This kinda sucks too!” I’m not even sure we are permitted to think it.