very moving u should write more
She taught me how to dig up worms and bait a hook all by myself, then how to take the fish off by stepping on it with my bare foot and yanking the hook out of his fishy mouth. She taught me nursery rhymes, and one went like this: Had a little chicken, peep peep Waded in the water deep deep Climbed the mountain high high Poor little thing didn't have but one eye. Every time she told me that one my bottom lip would pooch out and start trembling. She taught me how to go to school as she held my hand and walked me to the school my first day, my bird legs and birdy feet kicking up dust as we walked down the road. Later on she taught me how to cook, how to sew by hand, and how to clean. I always got mad when I had to do that stuff, but many years later I realized why she was doing it. She got frail later on in life, her health gradually fading, and she couldn't teach me anything like she used to. Mamma, I just wish you had taught me how to not hurt when you passed away. I love you Mamma |
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