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It wasn’t anything to do with forgetting. It was just accepting. Nothing was ever so bad once you had accepted it.
It was good. And nothing good is ever lost. It stays part of a person, becomes part of one’s character.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. She may not have believed in God, but I’m pretty certain God believed in her.”
As long as Mumma was alive, she knew that some small part of herself had remained a child, cherished and adored. Perhaps you never completely grew up until your mother died.
