I would have traded all of this writing and praise for a friend to talk to on the phone. For anyone dear from back then to come into now and ask how I’m doing. It’s not the worst question. It’s the best one.
When everything fails, I at least know there’s a little version of me, this cool miracle walking around representing me wherever he goes. That I don’t take for granted, maybe because he’s at my breast.
So sweet, Max, my life, Minha Vida. Nosso Rei.
