b.read.crumbs : You won’t believe me, and the only person who can confirm this is dead.

I remember my first birthday. I was already standing up in my crib when my mother came into the room. She was singing “Happy Birthday,” and she held a Mason jar lid with a burning candle on it. I laughed, because the burning candle was beautiful and because my mother sang a song that was all about me–it even had my name in it. I remember it simply and clearly. I knew it was my first birthday. I knew what that meant.

Not long before her death, I mentioned this to my mother. She didn’t believe me e...