Carl Elliott Cockrum’s cheekbones were too defined, and his dimples were too noticeable.
He stood in Times Square as he saw his mother, Kathleen Gray, for the first time in what seemed like forever. This was her first visit to the Big Apple, but she hadn’t seen her son in months. This wasn’t a face Gray was familiar with.
His body 30 pounds lighter and his demeanor octaves quieter, Cockrum wasn’t right, and Gray could tell.
“He was so gone,” Gray said. “Wasted. Like how a cancer patient looks. That is a mother’s worst nightmare. That your child is in New York City, in the hospital, so far away from you.