Those Who Mourn
I was eleven when he died, the blond boy with braces who had a crush on me in the third grade, the only boy fast enough to catch me on the playground. He was twelve that summer, the star pitcher on his Little League team in the middle of playoffs when his mom crashed their Bronco on a country road killing them both on the way to his baseball game.The mom wasn’t your average mom. She roped cattle with manicured hands, spun men’s heads when she stepped into a room, wrapped bright scarves around her auburn hair, and was so […]