At My Mother’s Funeral, A Recognition That Rewrote My Love Story

who had—in her imperfect, flawed way—shaped the woman I had become, for better and worse.

“I’ll need to speak with Michael,” I said, professional habits taking over as my emotions threatened to overwhelm my capacity for rational thought. “I’ll call you back tonight with our plans.”

Michael was scrubbing out of surgery when I reached him, and without continue reading …