My Husband and My Mother Poisoned Us and Put Us in the Ground. They Forgot One Thing: I Woke Up First

There had been a year of hard, patient work, all three of us in therapy, learning how to carry what had happened without being crushed by it.

There were still nights when Wyatt needed his bedroom light left on.

There were still moments when the sudden smell of damp earth after rain made my chest go tight and the dark press close for a heartbeat before I remembered where I was.

Some things do not fully leave you.

We had made our peace with that, too.

What I have learned about healing, in this year on the coast, is that it does not look like the wound closing over and vanishing.

It looks like the wound becoming a part of you that you have learned to carry without it running your life.