[https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/afde0992-d968-4a18-9f6c-e26dab6c2540/declw65-b47f6829-2754-41ba-8eb8-896a61fe61c1.jpg/v1/fill/w_899,h_889,q_70,strp/glass_monkey_by_cerealnovels_declw65-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOiIsImlzcyI6InVybjphcHA6Iiwib2JqIjpbW3siaGVpZ2h0IjoiPD0xMjY1IiwicGF0aCI6IlwvZlwvYWZkZTA5OTItZDk2OC00YTE4LTlmNmMtZTI2ZGFiNmMyNTQwXC9kZWNsdzY1LWI0N2Y2ODI5LTI3NTQtNDFiYS04ZWI4LTg5NmE2MWZlNjFjMS5qcGciLCJ3aWR0aCI6Ijw9MTI4MCJ9XV0sImF1ZCI6WyJ1cm46c2VydmljZTppbWFnZS5vcGVyYXRpb25zIl19.gzt_Zf8UiVf6f1u7KjOdr1q6lyH6CWQOTQV98REWmyM]

This is a little glass sculpture I did of a monkey holding a baby monkey. If you look closely, you can see the baby in her lap. As I studied the finished piece, I realized that once again, my art had uncovered something that was lurking inside of me.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

My mom is in hospice. My brother died of a brain aneurysm a number of years ago. One day, my mom told me, "I want to see Bubba again, but I don't want to leave you." A mother's heart is a deep and complex thing. I knew what she meant. She knows that I am cherishing each day with her, while at the same time, holding her loosely. I don't want her to feel beholden to me. I tell her I will be okay and not to worry. But, she does.

The love my mother taught me, is the kind of love I try to infuse into the stories I write. Real love exists. It is flawed and ragged, at times even ugly, but it can be found. For the first time in my life, I realize truly appreciate who my mom is. I admire her courage and also her ability to be honest on tough days. She is teaching me to accept life as it is. I am thankful.