Goodbye begins July 27, 2020, with a text.
The doctor just called with the scan results, and it's not good. Can you come over?
My brand-new 14-year-old is in the middle of blowing out twisty rainbow candles on an ice cream birthday cake. It is homemade by a sister and looks delicious. We finish singing as I prepare to leave. At the time I am unaware of how this act foreshadows the following eight months. It is the beginning of me tapping out of my own family's activity, sometimes planned, most times not, to be with my parents and siblings.
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