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Her tears dripped onto my hands, onto the carpet; I watched them fall and had the sudden realization that our roles had reversed. Somehow, I had become the mother and she the daughter. Her weight was heavy against me, her head resting on my chest.
I watched them go without them knowing, tears trickling down my face. I had a feeling of lightness, of weightlessness; the sensation of being stuck somewhere far behind.
How do I explain to her that the home I miss isn’t a place?
