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Memories of mother from "summary" of Wild by Cheryl Strayed
In the vast landscape of my mind, memories of my mother stand out like tall trees in a dense forest, their presence both comforting and overwhelming. I can still feel her warm embrace, hear her gentle voice, and see the tender smile that always graced her face. She was my anchor, my guiding light in a sea of uncertainty, and her absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill. Every memory of my mother is tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia, a longing for the days when her presence was a constant in my life. I remember the way she would tuck me into bed at night, singing softly as she stroked my hair until I drifted off to sleep. I remember the smell of her cooking, the sound of her laughter, and the way she always seemed to know exactly what to say to make everything better. But alongside these memories of love and warmth are others, darker and more painful to recall. I remember the day she fell ill, the fear and helplessness that gripped me as I watched her grow weaker and mor...
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