There Was a Little Girl

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Mama has less to say these days. She mostly hollers or talks gibberish. I can’t remember the last time she said my name. And it’s been awhile since I’ve heard her say, “I love you, too.”

But today, as I cuddled her on the love seat, she wrapped her hands around my arm. And she said, “There was a little girl.”

“Yes, Mama,” I said. “I was your little girl. And you were my mommy. I love you so much.”

She patted my arm and gently rubbed it. She said, “I hoped so.” And then she said some things that didn’t make sense. And then she started counting, “Four, five, six…”

And the moment was brief. And I’m not sure what she meant, or if she was just speaking her random words. But I want to believe that a part of her knows that there was a little girl. And that it was me.

And I hope she always, always, always knows how very loved she is.

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