I was supposed to go on a long walk with Lidia last Saturday, but I ended up spending a good part of the day in urgent care with my son Carver instead. He’d hurt his thumb at a wrestling meet. By late afternoon, after consultations at two different clinics, we found ourselves in our car in a suburban parking lot, eating lunch from the Panda Express drive-through.
I've read this post several times, and each time I tear up. I hope the letter writer is in a better place now. I hope against hope that his parents have found their way to loving him.
Sugar - I started reading this and had to stop halfway through Suffocated’s question I was so upset. You probably did too. I love your response and I love that you take the baby sugars to the Pride Parade. Mostly I love the last sentence of your response. Perfect. ❤️
Seventeen-year-old? Oh my, how time flies. My mom just told me that her best friend's twenty-seven year old son committed suicide this week. So I'm going to hug my four-year old son a bit tighter tonight. On a brighter side, my thirty-year old brother came out to my parents this month (finally), and thankfully it did not go as bad as the one in your story. Thank you for your beautiful words Cheryl...they make my heart sing!
YES. Just like Jesus did. ❤️❤️❤️
I've read this post several times, and each time I tear up. I hope the letter writer is in a better place now. I hope against hope that his parents have found their way to loving him.
Sugar - I started reading this and had to stop halfway through Suffocated’s question I was so upset. You probably did too. I love your response and I love that you take the baby sugars to the Pride Parade. Mostly I love the last sentence of your response. Perfect. ❤️
Absolutely, the last sentence was the matter of fact exclamation mark!
You are an amazing writer. You make me smile & cry & sigh & laugh… Thank you!
Thumbs up to Carver, Cheryl!!
Seventeen-year-old? Oh my, how time flies. My mom just told me that her best friend's twenty-seven year old son committed suicide this week. So I'm going to hug my four-year old son a bit tighter tonight. On a brighter side, my thirty-year old brother came out to my parents this month (finally), and thankfully it did not go as bad as the one in your story. Thank you for your beautiful words Cheryl...they make my heart sing!