When I Was Four, My Mother Left Me Alone in a Church—Twenty Years Later She Returned Crying, “We Need You”

Coffee shop.

Forty-five minutes.

PART 64 — SHE IS JUST A WOMAN

That surprised me most.

My mother had existed in my head as:

Abandoner.

Monster.

Ghost.

Then she sat across from me holding a coffee cup with two hands.

She looked old.