By Angie Brocker
Never having cradled or soothed him, I discovered a bridge I could never cross. Even so, I attempted to claim him when emotions were strong but will was weak.
Expending exhausted energy into building up what had been torn down, exposing raw layers of guilt and disappointment, I may have scraped away too much. Standing back, I memorized pictures of him hugging his ‘real’ mom, enveloping her in empty promises that everything was fine.
He never willingly looked me in the eyes, perhaps afraid I might see into a soul unwilling to accept another person inside. I’d only wanted to help.
I love it, I’d like to read more of the story.
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Awesome.
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An emotional story with good imagery.
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Beautiful, deep story.
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This story is one of my favorites! You ca fill the emotion behind each word.
Thank you for reading my story!
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A bittersweet tale. Makes one feel sad, but also a little hopeful, too. First, a frown, then, a real smile.
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From not a “real mom”: the emotion in this story was dead on.
Awesome! Thank you so much!