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A Mother’s Hands

A Mother’s Hands

I will never forget the image of my mom entering my hospital room shortly after my son was born. She did not come bearing balloons or flowers or a soft receiving blanket. Instead of tears of joy following the birth of her first grandchild, her eyes were brimming with...
The Hug I Had Been Waiting For

The Hug I Had Been Waiting For

I was told it was important to bond with my baby. But I did not know how to bond with a child I couldn’t feed, hold or bathe. One that weighed a little more than a pound and was clinging to life on a respirator. I was so scared to touch him because I knew his fragile...
The Value of Giving

The Value of Giving

On a cold day in December in the early eighties, my dad saw a man walking down the highway carrying an old sewing machine. My dad stopped and offered the man a ride. As the miles passed, the man shared that he had taken his late wife’s sewing machine into town for...