Standing at the Door Like a Stranger
Behind her, I could see everything.
Balloons. Laughter. Music.
A full house celebrating my son’s birthday.
My son.
The same boy I raised with my own hands.
The same child I once stayed up all night comforting when he had a fever.
And there I stood…
Holding a chocolate cake I had baked that morning—his favorite since he was little.
I waited.