Thirty-One: ReedMy mother hadn't stopped moving since I walked in the door. She scolded me for being gone for so long, crushed me into a hug, and then proceeded to rattle off a never-ending list of things that needed to be done. I caught about an eighth of it, my brain really just interested in sleep.
“Mom. Can I… go? To my room? I just need a minute.” She bit her lip, and I watched tears fill her eyes. I looked around for my dad or my brother for help.
“They went out to get my list from the store. I'm making food, um, casseroles, for Karen. And Brent, of course. They'll need food. She won't want to cook. Or bake. I don't even know what to do. I don't know what I'd do, Reed.” She was facing me but her vision was elsewhere, and I knew she was picturing me in that hospital bed.
“Mom. Ever
