Back home, my mother would still impulsively choose my clothes as she'd chosen my name. But all the identities she'd chosen for me felt wrong, now. I could not return to the person she'd picked for me to be. My relationship with my mother trapped me in the identity of a child.

They both began to giggle and then they fell into a side splitting round of laughter, the cleansing, complete sort of laughter only a mother and daughter can share.

What else happened?' she asked, not because she was particularly interested, but because one must talk to one's mother when she came to visit one, however tired and dispirited one felt.

I was angry and would have liked to quarrel with her; that was a good thing to separate on; she believed one thing and I believed another; I had a right to stick to my opinion. Besides then I would be free and I would have all of my own money. But I thought again; she had about the hardest life I had ever heard of.

I kiss her on the forehead and make her a promise. "It stops here. With me and you. It ends with us.

I experience every day the truth of what you once told me, that there are certain thoughts which are not to be dwelt upon, but passed over as lightly as possible, unless we would be forever in tears: that is my case: for there is not a place in the house which does not give a stab to my heart when I see it: but your room especially deals a deadly blow from every part of it.

And in the night, when my coughing was dry and tough, feet padded into my room, hands repinned the flannel, readjusted the quilt, and rested a moment on my forehead. So when I think of Autumn, I think of someone with hands who does not want me to die.

The debt between a child and her mother could never be repaid, like running a foot race against someone fifteen miles ahead of you. What hope did you have of catching up?

The weaving of life between mother and daughter is just like the making of a basket. As time goes by, the interlacing takes shape and becomes stronger.

I’m so lucky to have you, Leni,” Mama said, trying to organize her cards with one hand.“We’re a team,” Leni said. “Peas in a pod.” “Two of a kind.” Words they said all the time to each other; words that felt a little hollow now. Maybe even sad.