I’ve tried to tell this story before. Let me try again. This time with flowers.
My mother died on Mother’s Day. It’s nearly impossible for me to comprehend, because she was my mother. Every store window was crowded with flowers and mother-daughter bullshit, and my to-do list still said pick up flowers after she was dead.
How to Embalm Yourself Before You’re Dead
Since Mother’s death, I’ve been mothering Dad the way I’ve always wanted to be mothered. I learned to be a mother by caring for my younger siblings...
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