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I spent most of my walk alone on the track. I was trying to absorb myself in the music. I stopped singing abruptly when a woman who reminded me of my mother smiled at me as she walked by. My mood immediately sunk.
Once in a while I find myself searching for my mom in stranger’s faces. I find myself thinking, Are you my mother? It reminds me of a book by P.D. Eastman that I used to read to my kids when they were little.
I miss having my mom next to me.
2 comments:
It is often the memories we hold in our heart that are the most precious. My compliments on your musical selections.
Thank you, Regina.
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