My 17-year-old son shaved his head for his sick girlfriend – the next day, her mother said, “You need to come to the hospital and see what your son did.”

bag. “I told her I’d be there by four.”

I nodded and reached for my coffee.

“You’re going again today?”

“Tell Diane I said hi. I texted her yesterday, and she barely wrote back,” I told my son.

Aaron paused, just for a second.

“She’s tired, Mom.”

“I know, baby.”

But I’d noticed.

My best friend’s replies had been shrinking for weeks. A thumbs-up where there continue reading …