it was the day before thanksgiving.
it was always a bittersweet holiday.
tomorrow will be the fourth thanksgiving without my mom and it just hasn't been the same.
no one cooks her famous pecan pie like she could.
our annual movie night feels different without her presence.
her laughter.
her smile.
i've missed it, but i hold on to the memories.
i smile at them.
laugh at them.
and cry.
knowing that she's smiling down at us, protecting us.
like a guardian angel.
i'm thankful that i was the child of sammatha marie stevens.
my mom.
i miss you and love you.
i'll visit your gravesite soon.
i promise.
YOU ARE READING
Eleven
Short Storywe met on a rooftop on the 11th day of the 11th month of the 11th hour. all because i had a seizure. it was weird because i hadn't had one in eight months. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was meant to be fatal. seeing as though we met at a hospital. ...
