To Believe in this Living
“Who are you?” my mother asks. “I’m Kim.” “My daughter Kim?” I’m not sure if she asks this because she actually remembers she has a daughter named Kim or because my sister has prompted her. Probably the latter, because when I show her a photograph of her five grown and graying children– the ones for whom she sacrificed not only her life, which is one thing, but her hopes and dreams, which is…
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