[the loss of a childβbe it through distance or situations that are out of a parent's handsβis never quite something one wants to envision for themselves, when they hold the infant in their arms, so innocent and perfect. the retelling of her daughter's traits brings a swell of tears to wanda's eyes.
would that her mother have grown old, to tell stories about her like this. would that she could have seen her boys grow, to know about the things they love, what they would have become.
wanda sits up abruptly, but turns to claire and wraps her arms tightly around the older woman, a gasp of air escaping herβa sob, as she shakes her head against the curve of her neck.
no subject
would that her mother have grown old, to tell stories about her like this. would that she could have seen her boys grow, to know about the things they love, what they would have become.
wanda sits up abruptly, but turns to claire and wraps her arms tightly around the older woman, a gasp of air escaping herβa sob, as she shakes her head against the curve of her neck.
she misses her mom desperately.]
I'm sorry you're not there with her.