From the dark to the dawn

Mother-son love.   I have been chastised by numerous relatives and friends alike for allowing my 7.5-year-old son to sleep beside me. Yet, I deflect their criticism with a gentle smile, for they cannot fathom the waterfall of emotions within me. They fail to grasp that I simply do not care what they think because the truth is far more profound. In the depths of my heart, I feel a mixture of sadness and longing. I fondly recall the days when my little one, at just one year old, would peacefully slumber beside me, clutching my hand with tiny fingers. There were moments when he would awaken during the night, seeking solace and desiring my comforting presence. I can still sense the delicate caress of his hand tracing my face. Those times held immense significance and remain etched in my memory, yet they couldn't endure indefinitely. They gracefully slipped away, akin to a beautiful dance. These memories evoke a deep longing within me as I witness my son growing up and the relentless pa...