What's Mine and Yours

by Naima Coster

Losing a parent was like losing a part of yourself, even if it was a part you’d rather forget.

To be a mother was like this: to fight desperately to hold on to yourself most days, to struggle against the snare of your child, to focus on his future instead of your own. And then, suddenly, to feel bowled over by your love for him, to feel his breath is your breath, your music his music, and you are the same.

“You know, they say that’s what gives life meaning. The fact that we’re all going to die,” he said. “I don’t believe that at all. I don’t need death to remind me how good life is. If I had an infinite amount of life, I’d be happy to go on living. Look at all this.”