The smog hung heavy over South Central, mirroring the weight on my chest as I pushed open the screen door. The stench of burnt toast and lavender air freshener, a sickly sweet assault on the senses, was a time capsule of my childhood. Only this time, the soundtrack wasn't punctuated by the booming laughter of my old man. Now, a low, monotonous drone buzzed from the living room – the symphony of Grandma Berry's dementia.
Letting Go.
Want to read more?
Subscribe to vivalalifepodcast.com to keep reading this exclusive post.