I didn't want to place my sentimentality onto his possessions. I didn't want to put the burden onto him of cushioning that blow to me of getting rid of stuffies and that ceramic pot he made when he was first learning to throw clay.
That feeling? No one tells you that it feels just like a breakup. A slow-motion moving on. A fracturing of the family that I cannot stop even when it is none of those things.
Raising a teen was my favorite part of parenthood. I should say "so far" at the end of that sentence, but I can't quite picture what's to come.
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