“Each unit sported its own lawn marked off by railroad ties. There were flower boxes on some of the windows and pinecone wreaths on a few of the doors. The main building anchored the center of the complex. To the left, a low building with ramps suggested a nursing wing. Beth parked the car in the visitors’ lot and the women sat for a while contemplating what lay in store for them beyond its tidy exterior. It was so quiet here, so peaceful. Somewhere inside, Lynne’s mother was, perhaps, chatting ...with friends or reading a book, never suspecting that by nightfall she would be in the throes of unfathomable grief. As a NICU nurse, Mary Kay was all too familiar with the horrors of informing parents that their child had died. Granted, the children were babies and the parents usually young, but if there was anything she’d learned in her long nursing career, it was that there was no mandatory age maximum for grief. A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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