
A final performance becomes the best gift of all
The very best gift came in the living room of my parents’ Oklahoma home in 2006 where my siblings and our children had convened from across the country.
The very best gift came in the living room of my parents’ Oklahoma home in 2006 where my siblings and our children had convened from across the country.
My son Austin sang at the book signing for my story in “Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Miracle of Love.” The story behind the song is something good.
Coming upon my parents’ old prom photo during this particular week, it seemed as if Mom was telling us, “Go and have a good time!”
The fashion lines that have divided us are getting fuzzy. I was almost fooled by the junior clothing sections labeled in big bold letters: Mom Jeans. But that marketing lure is not for me.
Even though my daughter owns piles of high heels, fashion boots, and athletic shoes, there’s not a dress flat in the bunch. Momma to the rescue.
Mom held my hand for 44 trips around the sun; now I’m an unaccompanied child with shared birthday memories bringing me peace.
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