Val Serwicki

“The joy of having sons is that they worship their mothers. Until one day, suddenly, they don’t. I am not like you, he realizes. We are different. Then, that boy—once small and sweet—begins the long, hard process of separation, until at last he rips the seam. But the holes where mother and son were once knit together remain.”
― Ariel Lawhon, The Frozen River