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The Thing About Mothers


Wonder what that's like…

Having a good mom…

The only thing I know is that I got my violet eyes from her.

Everything else about me, I can assume, was from my dad.

I can't really tell if own was a good or bad one.

I don't know if she died or left me.

My own dad won't even say when he up and left me on his own.

And that woman and that girl who calls me her "cousin" won't say anything, either.

All of this left me with a lot of questions, and as time moved along with me following suit, most of those questions started to lose their importance to me.

But then that strange girl comes to give me doughnuts one evening out of gratitude, I suppose.

I wondered why she'd go to such great lengths for a thank you present when all I did was an act of common courtesy, but whatever.

At least the doughnuts were sweet. Though I can't remember the last I really enjoyed anything sweet. Strange.

I should just be grateful they weren't god awful carrots.

I remember her saying that her mother used to make her these doughnuts, and that she taught her a lot. Then it would make a lot of sense that somewhere along the line her mom taught her how to make these things by hand, but I can only guess.

Come to think of it, I've never seen her mother around the islands. That girl never told me much about her until that day. Maybe she doesn't trust me enough to say anything else?

How ironic.

I remember getting a good look in her eyes once, and how they were same color as mine. It only reminded me of all the talk I heard about how I share my own mom's eyes.

It made me wonder if my mom was like her's.

Would my mom be as caring and knowledgeable as her's?

And what about her mom?

Did she leave her behind with that creepy looking man that was her dad, or was her life cut too short to do anything more?

There was also that pendant of her's that I fixed up on that day we first ran into each other. That thing was probably left to her as a parting gift.

So that girl had memories, knowledge, and a keepsake to remember her mother by.

All I had were these violet eyes of mine.

I still don't know all the details, but it sounds like she had a pretty good mom to me.

I just wish I had something on me that would have me say the same about mine.

Maybe I can learn more about a good mom from that strange girl.

I'd probably get a more direct experience from those folks I'm forced to board with, but that would be too much for me.

Besides, I think I may like that girl's approach more…