I don't remember my mommy too well. I don't remember caring for her. She was dear to me but what was our relationship really about?.. I don't remember. I was too small and too carefree to try to write on the pages of my memory the sweetness of my mother's embrace, the sound of her voice, the way her hand was laid upon my head, the way she cared for me. I know it was all there, but the details escape me altogether. I just don't remember. I ache to find out what it was through my writing, - the recreation of my childhood.