When My Child Mentioned “Aunt Phoebe,” Everything Fell Apart

humming, blissfully unaware he’d just dropped a match into gasoline.

“Mom, can I have more juice?”

I flipped the tablet face down and walked to the fridge on legs that didn’t feel attached to my body. “Sure, baby.” My voice came out steady enough to fool a stranger. That steadiness scared me more than the shaking.

I poured orange juice. The stream was continue reading …