My Son Said I’d Be Taking The Bus—Until I Opened The Glovebox

Rob read to neighborhood kids when they came by the fence or the time Rob drove three hours in a snowstorm to bring me chicken soup when I was sick at a conference in Fort Collins. He didn’t mention how Rob always left a light on for me when I worked late shifts, or how he called me every lunch break for thirty-six years just to say “thinking of you.continue reading …