Applying her Houseguests are like fish rule, she came for three days. I took her to all the best places I had found to eat, to walk, to look. Pasta at i Fratelli, beers at Sam’s, scones at Home Plate. The weather was perfect. She loved it. Back at SFO on Monday morning, I walked her to the gate, as people did in 1994. “You’ll never come home,” she said. “Yes, I will—” “No. If I’d seen this place when I was young, I’d have stayed forever.” It was hard for me to imagine my mother young. She’d never really been me, a girl out of college, looking at the map, wondering where to unpack her trunk and
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