Bikers Were Painting My Dead Mother’s House Pink At 4AM And I Didn’t Know Any Of Them

“After your dad passed. It was slow at first. But she just sort of… bloomed.”

“She bloomed,” I repeated.

“Yeah. Like she’d been waiting her whole life to be herself. And when she finally could, she didn’t waste a minute.”

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Closed the door. Sat on the edge of the tub and cried until my ribs hurt.

I’d missed it.continue reading …