My Momma

My mom. My momma. The woman who birthed me. Who loved me. Who prayed for me. The one who showed me how to bake cookies. The one who I would call crying in the middle of the night when I had my first daughter and I had no idea what I was doing. The one who could “tea party” with the best of them. The one who couldn’t really cook but could bake a mean coffee cake.

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