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When I look in the mirror without my glasses, I see Mama. The shape of her blue eyes and the way they crinkled at the edges when she smiled. The way she held her mouth as she peered at herself in the mornings and arranged her hair. The line of her jaw and the shape of her nose and the color of her skin. I look into the mirror and Mama looks out at me, and every single time, my heart breaks with longing, and I whisper, "Mama."
"This feels really good," I said to myself.
I hadn't been biking much. I used to bike every day to the T stop when it was just over a mile each way. But here in Cambridge, the T stop is a 10 minute walk, and it takes longer to get my bike out and then find a space to lock it up than it does to walk. So biking had become something I did when I needed to be at the campus that's just a couple of miles away, or even less frequently, when I decided to bike instead of walk the mile to Harvard Square.
After doing a bit of research on what this would entail, I have more questions than I do answers.
It enraged me, and it deeply hurt me. This was my response.
I'm trying to fix that. This is basically an extended note to myself of what I need to put somewhere after the prologue, before the switch comes between me going home to be with my mom as she died and me actually taking care of my mom while she died, much more slowly than expected. It's not right yet, but it's a start.
I almost reached to pick it up, and then I realized that it was a dime, just ten cents, on a bathroom floor in a dive crowded with semi-drunk college students. I left it there.
First grade: Wallace Elementary School. I don't know the reasons why Mama and Daddy sent me to public school after I'd been at Harrells for a couple of weeks, though I suspect it had to do with money. It most certainly had to do with money. Mama had just had my second brother, and we were a family of five instead a family of four.
Second and third grade: Liberty School. Between first and second grade, we moved to my dad's hometown. I hated it, though I had a best friend named Jessica who, like me, had a pet rabbit. Mine was named Wiggles; hers was named Rabbit Redford.
Fourth and fifth grade: Wallace Elementary School. When Daddy couldn't find a job and we were forced to live in my paternal grandparents' house for several months, my parents decided to move back to Wallace. We'd have free housing, thanks to Granddaddy. Daddy would be able to get a job at the textile mill. We'd be close to Grandmama.
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Wednesday December 20th
- I should have known better (4 comments)
- I was feeling complicated (4 comments)
Saturday November 11th
- A sad update (9 comments)
Friday November 10th
- Malfunctioning Washing Machine Incident Report (5 comments)
Monday September 25th
- cam wrote a novel (3 comments)
Friday September 22nd
- I mean I guess I shouldn't be surprised but... (1 comments)
Sunday September 17th
- Ennui Is The Wrong Word (7 comments)
- To The Emperor! (2 comments)
Sunday August 27th
- The moss wins again (3 comments)
Saturday August 19th
- Life is sweet (9 comments)