LITTLE MIRACLES: She sees seashells

“Go to your room. NOW!” Mom shouted. I had just talked back to her, an out-of-character act for me. But my seventh birthday was around the corner, and it was my new way of dealing with getting uprooted from my childhood home so that Mom could care for Grandpa. He had just had his second stroke, which left him with a big green oxygen tank and limited mobility on his left side. His sickness scared me.