“Where did you learn to braid hair?” “In the beginning, when I would come see you in the middle of the night, you’d always have your hair like that. Sometimes, you’d have it in one down your back. Other times you’d have a side braid with strands loosely framing your face. And sometimes you’d have two braids. I imagine at some point in our lives, like when we’re old and gray and your bones ache, you would have been too tired to do it yourself, so I taught myself so that I could do it for you.” A new wave of tears escapes my eyes. “You’re so perfect it’s infuriating. It almost makes up for all
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