Its confirmed, again. My heart is not my own. Last night one of my sons experienced, defeat and disappointment. It happened when "the man" and I were on our way out for dinner, we had no agenda, kind of free, a nice easy night... then I got the call. Return of the heavy heart, the ache. Plans shift. We meet. It is a privilege to be present to his sorrow. This tender, beautiful young man. I said he was "golden like the sun" when he was a little boy...he still is.
My heart is not my own.
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