No one knocked on our door yesterday. Every once in a while, I’d stare at it, consumed by its silence, wondering in the stillness of the afternoon if we had done the right thing. For fourteen years, except for weekends, holidays, and the occasional sick day, a therapist has been in our home. Five days…
She came into our lives three summers ago, a replacement for the therapist who got canned because he had fallen asleep while our four year old son played on the second floor balcony in our home. She didn’t have very big shoes to fill; our biggest requirement? Someone who would stay awake during the three…