When Charles first died by suicide, I didn’t know who I was anymore.
I was the mom that had bonfires and countless spend-the-nights and pizza parties. I was the “youtube” house. I was the mom of the funniest most popular kid in school. I was mom of an up-and-coming rap artist. I was the mom who kept condoms available in the boys’ bathroom for anyone in the neighborhood that wanted them–no questions asked. I was the mom of that zany, fun kid Charles.
I was also the mom who tried for years to speak up for her child, get him the … Read more...