Adjusting to losing her, there is another, unexpected process under way as well. Where once I would not have stopped to notice, now when I look into the mirror, I see my mothers face in mine. I hear the soft, distinctive pace of her footsteps as I climb the stairs, feel the rhythm of her hands as I pick up my knitting at the end of the day. The
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twenty. but I feel older
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becca
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and so is your layout<3
its hard, and i know you'll get through
it all,
my mother also died although I was only 4,
it even still, from that day, hurts.
<3333
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