The Sea Glass Gift
Everyone has the same question, whether they ask it or not. How could you? How could you give away your own child, your own flesh and blood? However tactfully they say it, what they are really asking is: what kind of a monster are you? That question brings it all back, like a shard of glass piercing wounds so deep I have to navigate out of a house of mirrors to answer it. I’ve encountered a lifetime of shards, some of my own making, and some strewn my way from the paths of others. I’m tired of determining which is which. The scars are there just the same. I think other people, in their questions, are looking for validation. They too have made a ravaging choice for their own reasons, hoping that someday, someone will absolve them. Somehow it will turn out right. I understand the desire for confession. So for those who really want to know, here’s my story, real and uncensored.