Tatamagouche in progress. Feb 24 (Patreon)

4.

Dear Simon,

Today you said, “Mama” for the first time. Your father was so excited. I remember when your older sister first said Mama, I felt sick. I felt like she had reached inside of me and taken hold of my name, and yanked it out, stuffing the wound with Mama.

But then today, you reached up your beautiful arms and your eyes shone, and you said, “Mama.” And I realized there was still a part of “Margaret” hiding inside of me. Small, and free. Until today. When you reached in and wrapped your chubby little fingers around its throat. You buried it under Mama.

I know it isn’t your fault. Nothing is anybody’s fault.

Your mother,

Mama