The kitchen is in total disarray. A whispered groan escapes my lips as I take it in: pots and pans strewn across the counter top, the table obscured by dainty floral china. My father has cleared a small area for his cereal bowl and coffee mug. “I see Mom was at it again last night,” I murmur.

Read More Being Her Sunshine – by Dawn Beecroft Teetzel