by dodgerh8ter

“It’s terminal,” I heard my grandmother say. “Six months, maybe?”

And with that, my mother burst into uncontrollable crying. I had never heard my mom cry like this before.

I was listening to my mom and grandma talk from the top of the stairs. I had been sent to my room and I knew an adult conversation was about to take place. As was my usual practice, I sat at the top of the stairs where I was out of sight but still quite able to eavesdrop. On this early February day, I wish I had gone to my room instead. Continue reading →