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Weekly Contest #43
She wasn't old when I was born. But I know she would've liked to be younger. She'd spent her middle and late 20s in a long-distance relationship with my father, never able to commit. Finally, she did. He whisked her off to a faraway land, where she didn't speak the language. He was her comfort, but then I came along.I was her firstborn, her niña grande- big girl. To her, I was like an anchor, a precious jewel. She pinched my chubby cheeks and cooed at me in Spanish. "Hay, que linda, Mamita! So pretty, Mamita!" Mamita was the smaller variant ...
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