Excerpt
An excerpt from For Crying Out Loud
My mother, Ma, spoke what would become her last words on the final day of her life.
“I’m going to have to go to the hospital tomorrow.”
I will never forget the look on her face. She was exhausted. I was still a teenager, too young and unprepared to respond the way I wish I could now. My brain wasn’t fully developed, and hers was being overtaken by metastatic cancer. I had learned early to avoid emotional discomfort at all costs, and by then, I had become good at it. Still, I carry the regret. If I could speak to her now, I would ask the question I never dared to ask then:
Ma, what was it like for you as a child?