The Message From My Son That Forced An Impossible Choice – The Archivist

clothes I’d worn to the hospital that morning, my hair pulled back in a messy bun. I’d changed into a sweater in the car, but I knew I looked tired and underdressed compared to everyone else.

My mother had greeted me at the door with a tight hug and an assessment. “You look exhausted. Are you sleeping enough? You need to take better care of yourself.continue reading …