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Showing posts from August, 2015

Confronting My Fear: Lessons from Ta-Nehisi Coates

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When my first son was born, I nicknamed him pickle.  Not for any real reason.  He wasn't green or lumpy.  In fact, he was a beautiful golden boy with a mound of dark, curly hair and the pinkest little lips.  He was the spitting image of my husband so I fell in love with him instantly and with ease.  I already trusted that smile, memorized those lips and I felt myself melt wrapped in those arms.  He was born with his eyes open.  The physical trait he most inherited from me.  Big, dark, oval eyes looking at us with razor-sharp focus, as if he was thinking, already, about who he would become and how we would fit into his life.

When my second son was born, I nicknamed him peanut.  Odd really, because he would be the only one of us to develop an allergy to them.  He was born bright red and wrinkly, screaming so loudly, his voice echoed throughout the delivery room.  Unlike his brother, his eyes were squeezed shut, we joke he wasn't ready to be born.  My sweet, kind boy clung close…