She was 26 when she had me. I remember us sporting the same hairstyle back in the day. She was my role model, I was her favorite accessory.
The bond that mommy and I share is more sisterly than it is mother-daughter. We share secrets, gossips, cosmetics, and for many, many years, hairbrushes. We share the same passion in writing too. When I wrote my first poem at 8, she gave me access to an old suitcase filled with diaries, with pages yellowed by years. Kept in each yellowed leaf were verses written for my father and those that she loved before him. I have not ceased writing since. [Read more...]
