Comfort at Death
I stretched out on the couch with my arms crossed and a blanket over me, trying to nap and fight off the flu. My two-year-old daughter stood next to me. She wanted me to play dollhouse with her. When I would tell her I was too tired, sheβd reply, βtwo minutes,β and hold up two stubby little fingers with a look of utter seriousness. After I explained thaβ¦
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