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Not Wrong, Just Different

Not Wrong, Just Different

In the mid-twentieth century, Cassandra wandered off in Sears and secreted herself in the center of a circular clothing rack. Frantically, her mother searched for her. But the bright lights, packs of strangers, and loud noises frightened Cassandra. So, she stayed...
The Oil of Joy for Mourning

The Oil of Joy for Mourning

My son is sentenced to 5 years in prison. Sitting in court, I listen to felony after felony announced. He pleads guilty to all of them. I feel traumatized, hearing, living, seeing everything in 3-dimensional agony. The people next to me are his victims. That’s both...
Who’s the Prodigal Here?

Who’s the Prodigal Here?

Irene wronged her thirteen-year-old brother greatly. Everyone could see it. Should he have been screaming at her? Probably not, but I understood his feelings. Then, to my horror, our eighteen-year-old daughter wrapped her hands around his throat to strangle him. More...
The Estranged Child

The Estranged Child

My baby is gone. My precious, cuddly, sapphire-blue-eyed daughter tossed me out like last week’s coffee grounds. Occasionally, I hear a snatch of news about Rita, like she was in the hospital. Whatever for?  No idea. She has meticulously closed off every form of...

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