After my memoir Working for Justice was released, and just nine and a half years after my mother’s murderer was convicted, I received digital notification that he was eligible for parole.
Over the last eight years I have been privileged to contribute to a lot of wonderful publications, but very few are as respected and world-renown as Chicken Soup for the Soul. My five feel-good stories have appeared in seven different anthologies. And since it seems an appropriate time to share some virtual chicken soup with my followers, I thought I’d offer my first round-up post of ‘Soul Stories,’ as I’ll call them now.
Thirty-seven years ago my mom gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Three years ago, I gave birth to my own son. Every cell in my body wants to have a sit down with her, to trade birth and/or parenting stories. But, as my brother stole her life eleven years ago, I haven’t been able to. I never will.