Mom Called Me Damaged at My Sister’s Baby Shower

a navy coat, hands folded tightly. She looked smaller outside her own kingdom.

The children knew only that they were meeting Mommy’s mother.

Maya asked, “Is she nice?”

I answered honestly.

“She is learning.”

Maya considered that.

“I am learning cartwheels.”

“Similar,” I said. “But emotionally harder.”

Mother stood when we approached.

Her eyes moved over the continue reading …