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  • she can't recall her exact age, but my mother was certainly young in her first memories of visiting the cemetery every sunday. sunday was her father's only day off and it was a ritual, albeit her mother's ritual, to visit this grave after church.
    they all went, until one saturday evening when her father told her mother that they wouldn't be doing it anymore.

    for some reason, this is when my mother asked the question.

    "who's grave is it? why is my name on it?"

    she learned years later that there had been a baby born two years before her, blue and still.
    theresa-marie was my grandmother's favorite name. she didn't want to name her next baby anything else.
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