An Unforgotten Heart

Growing up, my mother told me stories of her childhood. As a young girl, I understood the narrative, but as I grew older, I realized that what I knew of my mother's past was incomplete, with only bits and pieces that made her life feel like it was a recipe, and I couldn't reconcile the final product. Even as a young adult, I did not understand or appreciate the true essence of my mother's life. As I got older, I began to try to put those pieces in order, like a jigsaw puzzle. But in the end...