[“Your / mother would never have / aborted you,” says my aunt. / Things like that get me / thinking.” – Rustin Larson]
No, I’m sure she wouldn’t have. But perhaps she’d thought about it in retrospect, when I was perhaps four, or seven, or later. All those times when she may have seen, through a haze of motherhood, who I really am.
[[A sore-point of English grammar: that last word above should be ‘was,’ but ‘am’ is the meaning I want to convey, as the voice still is what it ‘was.’]]
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