One day in 1998 my mother brought me into the master bathroom, sat me on the sink, and addressed me with tears in her eyes. My stepfather had passed away in a motorcycle accident and she had to tell her 7-year-old son that the only father he had ever known wasn’t coming back. My biological … Continue reading I’m an NFL Defensive End and a Poet. This Is What Growing Up With a Single Mom Looks Like.
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