I wrote this after attending the funeral of my dear friend’s mom. My memories of her are from long ago—many of them are fragmented, but still vivid. I attempted to capture a few in this piece, and to pay tribute to a remarkable and much-loved woman.

This memoir piece is true, except for my boyfriend’s name. I entered a shorter version into the 2016 Gotham Writers 91-Word Memoir Contest, where it made the list of finalists.

When I was fifteen, my dad got a new job, and we moved from Kingston, Ontario to Atlanta, Georgia. This memoir piece captures a day in my life soon after we arrived. It was a significant date for the human race, and a deeply personal one for me.