My Son Brought

authority.”

“And what do you think?”

My mother folded her hands in her lap.

“I think authority cost us too much.”

I had no response to that.

For the first time in my life, my mother had brought me something better than a casserole.

She had brought a crack in the wall.

But cracks are not doors.

Not yet.

Over the next year, my mother tried.

Awkwardly.

Imperfectly.continue reading …