My Eight Year Old Son Was Teased for His Duct Taped Sneakers Then the Principal Called Me One Morning

quiet of grief being managed. I drove and let it be quiet and felt something I had been too careful to feel for a long time: the possibility that we were going to be all right. Not that everything had been fixed. Not that nothing was still hard. Not that losing Jacob had become less than what it was. But that the hardness had limits, that other things continue reading …