A Story About a Mom
There once was a young woman who dreamed of the day she could become a mother. Holly was beautiful, full of life and laughter and of an easy temperament. In the late 1970s, she was like dandelion seeds blowing everywhere in the wind. Whimsical and free.
When Ali, Casey, and I were in college down in central Illinois, we lived in this great place just a block off campus. It was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the town smack dab in the middle of Greek Row, snuggled between the Beta and SAE houses—a modest, three-bedroom house with a front porch and back patio, and yard that made it ideal for barbecues and other themed or not themed parties.