A Single Piece of Paper, Pressed the Weight of Abandonment into My Bones
It’s 51 years after her death, and for the first time, I feel a connection to a mother I never knew
Published in
6 min readApr 10, 2024
On September 15, 1973, I was five and a half months old; my brother, barely past a toddler, had only recently turned three. Our mother was 24. And then she wasn’t. Why she took…
