how do you?

I had the urge earlier today to write something in tribute to my Mama.  To tell you about her.  But haven’t I been doing that every single day since she left me?

I had the urge to write a letter to her.  But what more can I say–what can I say that I haven’t said already?

And how, exactly, do you convey how important someone’s existence was to you?

I don’t know.  For me, there is not intentional anything here.  Every moment of my life, I simply live it: a humble–yet healthy–dose of gratitude for that woman who fought for me every single day of my life–even before she knew I could exist.

I could tell you all these stories about her–stories that would make you love her in some weaker way than I do.  Because who could love her more than me?

I could describe all the million things I loved about her.  But, some ways, that would diminish her.

My life, truth be told, is just one big conversation with–about–for–her.

I guess that’s all I really need to say.

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