I see the email address and I pause. Take a deep breath. Blow it out slowly. It’s from a path not taken. A path I left in an increasingly distant past. A path best left behind me. Yet, there the email sits. To open it may be to open Pandora’s box. But to not open…
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Blink and it’s gone
At the crack of dawn, I was already driving home from the airport, wiping big mama tears from my cheeks. My eldest was headed back to Texas, his fireman gear packed efficiently per his norm. Military precision is his modus operandi. While he was getting ready to board a plane, I was heading back to…
