Bottled in and gasping for air, this is how my daughter approaches me. Strawberry red splotches are scattered across her cheeks.
I want to pick each one and eat it for her, to consume her rage and sadness and worry. This is what we do as mothers. I’ve certainly been in her emotional position before.
These are unprecedented times. A virus rages through our communities, shutting off our connections and inviting us to survive alone inside our homes.
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