Dear Mama/Momo/Madre/MamaLynn/Mam/Ma,
In my 20-some-odd years of life, I’ve learned a thing or two by watching, talking, and doing life with you.
Do you remember the time as a child I stood at the top of the stairs
in Warrenton, hands on my hips with my sassy brows raised to you?
“Mother, you have choice…� I huffed, doing my best to sound bossy despite my lisp.
…
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