“Your Kids Can Eat at Home,” My Dad Said—So When the Waiter Returned, I Stood Up – The Archivist

a few truckers headed in the same direction. My hands gripped the steering wheel as something fluttered in my chest.

Why was I so nervous?

My father used to say that a mother knows things, that instinct runs deeper than logic. “Trust your gut, Joyce,” he’d told me when I was young and scared. “Your body knows what your mind hasn’t figured out yet.”

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