Another morning after..

...a crazy night before.

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A snapshot of the past.
You always had to eat, dinner was always made by noon. If you didn't eat then you were hounded, if hounding didn't work then she cried. That always worked, no one can stand to see and angel cry. You might as well be prepared for at least one hug, even on your first trip, because you weren't getting out the door without one. Everyone was welcome in her home. She always wanted you to come and never wanted you to leave. Sometimes I think she should have run a bed and breakfast, she'd have loved it. Every time I went up that way I stopped and sometimes I just needed to drive and I'd go to her. Now I can't. I've never felt as much as home as I did in her kitchen. I don't know where home is now.
I'm lost.


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