It begins with a magnolia leaf—smooth, shiny, and deep green.

“Are you telling me that she has leukemia?” I manage to gasp out.

“I’m so sorry,” her voice strained, “but I want you to take her to the hospital today. I’m hoping this is just a mix-up, some lab error. We need to recheck it to be sure.” 

Let’s be candid for a moment

It’s ok that I’m not perfectly patient and understanding and sympathetic every minute. Even if Hazel does have cancer. It’s ok that I’m angry on the inside and stressed and didn’t want to play Go Fish. It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.

The bubble

Recently, I’ve constantly thought about control. It’s an illusion. We have absolutely none. My son died and taught me that. My daughter was diagnosed with leukemia and reminded me. COVID19 shuts down the world, and I scream “OK I GET IT, UNIVERSE! NO CONTROL!” Most of the time, I am able to hold the knowledgeContinue reading “The bubble”