I was so smug. I produced a male heir, a solitary namesake for two families.
He was perfect with his golden hazel eyes, corn silk hair, and gossamer skin.
Then his body betrayed him.
A burn vandalized his angelic face. An angry red scar spread from his sweet strawberry lips to his peach fuzz ear. Still, he was perfect, he was beautiful.
I grieved for my only son of an only son, a mother’s treasure, yet I wrapped my blanket of conceit around me even tighter.
Then his mind betrayed him.
He is still perfect, still beautiful, still my cherished son, but this scion’s legacy may end with him.
Karma. Is. A. Bitch.
For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Cameron gave me this prompt: Mourning the loss of someone who hasn’t died..
I gave Alison this prompt: Apparently, there is nothing that cannot happen today. – Mark Twain
*From The Vault of If Mom Says OK; reworked and edited for Scriptic. Originally posted June, 2010.
Thin spiral notebook 
Ouch. Well written, tight, and not terribly pleasant. Well done.
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I was so moved by this yesterday. Unconditional love, sorrow, and stark honesty. Thanks, Tara, for making my prompt into something truly meaningful.
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Wow. Just. Wow.
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This is breathtaking in its aching and longing. well done.
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This breaks my heart. Into tiny little jagged pieces. I can only imagine. I’ve heard so many horror stories and pray every day that I never live one. You captured this so elegantly.
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A mothers love sees no imperfections. Great post.
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Yeowch! Very well done Tara. This wraps so many things into one small blanket of understanding.
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I know many parents struggling with exactly this battle. When Sam and I went for his autism clinic testing this past week, I met a couple of kids who probably will fall into that category. I watch parents around me adjust their expectations to love the children they have, rather than the ones they expected, and I feel so very lucky because my kids, for all their problems, are going to grow up and go to college. They can be straight or gay or bi and know what those things are. They’ll get to have babies if they want them, and they won’t have to live in my house forever. Your piece is evocative of the struggles I see all around me. Karma is is a whoredog bitch.
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ooomph…
I know where this comes from. Brilliant way on conveying something so close to you and so important to understand.
I loved this.
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