Silas is a mix of snot and fumbled fingers. His wad of toilet paper in his front pocket is at the ready for when frustration signals his nose to run. Or for when his brain says, “enough,” and I’ve asked him to try one more time. He can catch the tears there, too. I’m in […]
Tag Archive 'Silas'
He is eight today. Eight today and nine tomorrow. Ages that do not define his soul. Because he has always felt. Always intuitively sensed, like a cat, when someone wasn’t well. Always prayed from the depths of his heart for healing and peace over his family. And for more duct tape. He has cornered his sister […]