I was probably 3 or 4 when
she first encouraged me to
create art, always plenty of
markers, crayons, paper.
And I love her for that.
I was probably 5 or 6 when
she first taught me to
love plants, flowers like
forsythia, hyacinths, lilacs.
And I love her for that.
I was probably 7 or 8 when
she first pushed me to
read books, thick books on
history, animals, mythology.
And I love her for that.
I was probably 9 or 10 when
she said nothing as he turned
his anger on me, wish she’d
said “Stop”, that first time.
And I can’t forgive her for that.
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