Have you ever had someone walk up to you in a restaurant and ask what happened to your child?
All at once, its unpleasant and, somehow, a relief that someone cares to know your story. (Although I’m not sure that most really want to know). It’s a child-like curiosity that asks what countless others fear to utter. It’s becoming more uncomfortable as my son gets older and understands.
I hardly know what to tell him, or them!
But in this quiet, somehow safer place, I like to tell it. I want you to know. …perhaps, I even need you to.