Hail Mary Full of Grace. The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women. And blessed is the fruit of your womb... Mary, the mother of Jesus, goes by more than a few names.

I process by writing. I'm steady writing this time, but not yet processing. I had Roy Rogers chicken once, sure enough, in a rest stop. Then I remembered — I was with Aunt Phyllis. And just like that, the memories rushed in.

She bore no children. Yet she raised generations and begot relationships. Aunt Sallie was my model for holiness, my symbol of wisdom, my blueprint for grace.

I have a bad memory. It's not the baby, it's me. I can't remember a single bad thing about you.