Monday morning around 4 am, she told us it was her last night. She
told us the running guy told her it was her last night. (Me being
the folklore/mythology drenched person I am immediately thought of
Hermes, the messenger, the god who guided people into death) I asked
who the running man was, because she had spent the last few days
talking to relatives or people we recognized by name. She responded: a
god. This was one of the most odd moments of her last few days with
us. However, she was right.
Continue reading at the Basement…











Bad Moms Are Social