First thing after
waking today, I counted back. I have
been motherless for thirty-four years on this Mother’s Day. Thirty-four years is enough time to become a
notorious serial killer or become a billionaire. In thirty-four years, a sapling planted alongside
a house will grow into a tree shading the roof of that house.
In another year, the
loss of my mother will be old enough to run for president of the United States
of America.
A strange and
sobering thought, that.
—Mitchell Hegman
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