My youngest son, Sam, hands me a DVD converted from a video recording taken years ago.

Apprehensive, I slide it into a laptop and watch the scene from my past come to life. After viewing only part of it, he exits to do homework, pauses, and quips, ?What happened to you, Mom??

Time suspends as I search for a reply.

?Life—life happened, Sam?a lot of life. Like your dad dying and you and I ending up with a genetic disorder. Muscle biopsies, spinal taps, surgeries, you know. Crazy stuff happened.?

He looks my way only somewhat understanding. His seventeen-year-old, senior-in-high-school self tries on my explanation, but it doesn't quite fit. He can't give in so why should I?

He continues up the stairs and I stand alone.

Alone with the reality that the hard stuff is winning. That I caved under the pressure. That my tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed son knows who I was, compared to who I am.