Is there anything harder than removing your heart, watching it grow legs, and then leaving it at the side of the road? No, probably not. As a mother, this is my constant feeling, but also, inside that heart are my insecurities, my wrong turns, my doubts, and the revelation that the way I think is different, not the same. That I'm alone in the world with my thoughts, even when I'm not lonely. And for all of these things, to the third and fourth generation, amassed and alighted within a single...