Five years ago, I sat in a hospital room with my precious Mom-Mom. She was a spitfire who worked into her 80’s, stylish to a fault, and had beautiful, smooth, lovely skin. I suspected her time was coming short, even though she made us laugh hysterically with her enthusiastic endorsement of John Stamos on ER.
“I can’t wait for you to have babies,” she implored. I had not been married a year. “Soon, Mom-Mom,” I promised. “Pete will be through with nursing school in just a few months. After that, we’ll see!”
I had no idea I was already pregnant. A week later, we said goodbye to my gorgeous Mom-Mom, and the next time I would cry would be in my bathroom as I tried to comprehend two pink lines. An unexpected gift.
I knew these two lives crossed and knew each other, although I would never see it.
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