simultaneously, but I force myself to sit back down, so she can have this moment with her son. Their embrace is the sweetest one I’ve ever seen. Chris wraps his mother up in his arms, curving his broad, shaking shoulders over her petite frame, burying his face in her hair while she sobs into his chest. Before I know it, I’m crying too, weeping into my hands because the last time I heard Chris cry like this was when Margaret died.
