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She never had any reason to celebrate Mother’s Day. Her Mom died in a car accident when she was three; her grandmothers, long before that. Mom had brothers and Dad is an only child, so no Aunts either.

Growing up, the days leading up to Mother’s Day were torturous. She was forced to make whatever craft her school teachers had planned that year. They all insisted, “There must be someone you can give it to.” There wasn’t.

Not having any women figures in her life wasn’t what bothered her most. She didn’t know any other way and her Dad did more than he needed to make up for it. It was the pity she couldn’t handle. That look people gave you when they found out your Mom was dead. You know the look. That “you poor thing” look. She despised that look.

But this Mother’s Day was different. As she lay in her hospital bed, daydreaming about how different her life could have been if her Mom didn’t go out to buy her juice that night, the nurse walked in with a bright-eyed, beautiful baby girl.

And she knew, from then on, Mother’s Day would be different.


Special guest author: Kayla Rivett

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