At what point does someone we’ve lost become only a story we tell, more myth than memory?
Baking was solely Mom’s domain, I believed, and cooking for her was mine.
In video games, dead parent storylines give a character depth. Their grief becomes a plot point, something to overcome.
It was the middle of a pandemic. Mom had just died of cancer. Why leave my home of four and a half years?
What kind of story would you like to write?
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