Life is not stagnant, it flows, and sometimes it rages
Mother was anchor. Mother was comfort. Mother was home. A girl who lost her mother was suddenly a tiny boat on an angry ocean. Some boats eventually floated ashore. And some boats, like me, seemed to float farther and farther from land Ruta Sepetys
I remember when I knew deep inside I wouldn’t have my mother for another Mother’s Day. I repressed the shit out of that thought and continued with the pressing issues at hand. Nancy and I were in a stand-off with death, as if a game of Red Rover, we dared the Abaddon to break through our clasped hands. And with everything we had we held.
All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother Abraham Lincoln