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LOVING MY SON, LOSING MYSELF
At the grocery store, I picked the cart with the one rebel wheel that refused to swivel like the other three. A life lesson I knew so very well—not everyone moved in the same direction. As the cart skidded into a pallet of display pumpkins, I admonished myself for procrastinating. I dreaded making the phone call, although I knew Michael’s future was more important than stocking up on frozen waffles.
For twenty years, I pretended to live in the moment, read every self-help book about gratefulness and grace and God’s will. I knew all along it was pure bullshit.
The day of the phone call would arrive no matter how hard I tried to hold onto the present. And Michael’s life would be altered forever. It was time to go home and face the dial tone.
excerpt from LOVING MY SON, LOSING MYSELF © catherine dicairano 2009
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