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Standing in my childhood home’s bedroom surrounded by piles of random things collected from multiple rooms waiting to be packed into moving boxes (Christmas china, antique linens and quilt pieces,...
In two weeks' time, the place I’ve referred to as home since I was ten years old and entering fifth grade will no longer be my family’s home. The familiar feel of the slightly worn square key...
Last week, I noticed I was anxious, feeling behind the eight-ball and like I would never be able to do all the things I needed to do to help my mom get moved and keep some semblance of life and my...