“Take care of yourself, Rachel.” “Goodbye, Mama B.” On Providence, every goodbye had felt like an almost-death—a passing out of each other’s lives, likely forever. Even though Rachel had no idea if she would ever see Mama B again, this goodbye didn’t feel as painful. The memory of Mama B would always be with her; not a ghost of a memory, but a living thing, like a branch grafted onto her that would keep growing after they parted. As she watched Mama B walk away, Rachel heard an echo of the other woman’s voice in her ear. The connection between all things.
