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Momma talks about my deceased kin the same way she talks about dad. A large sigh beforehand, a strained voice, and averted gaze. When I asked if something was wrong, she would groom me and tell me not to worry. "Sometimes warriors don't always get along with people, even their loved ones. What's important is sticking by and not letting the hard times make you leave."
I think now that was her pride speaking more than anything. Adults like doing that, giving half truths instead of straight answers.

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