What does he see when he looks at me now? Does he even see me? A version of me, certainly But the real me?
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cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
What does he see when he looks at me now? Does he even see me? A version of me, certainly But the real me?
Read More“Can I watch Joy’s movie, Mama?” “Joy’s movie?” “Yeah! The yellow lady with the blue hair!” Frantically searching my memory bank for the missing puzzle pieces, I stare confusedly into space until a bright light blinks into existence above my head. “Aha! Joy! You mean Inside Out.” My sweet boy, with swollen eyes and a…
Read MoreSadness swims inside of me. Doing the backstroke across my heart. Flipping and repeating, gracefully kicking backwards as it observes where it has been.
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