Today, makes it 17 years.
I planned to pen something in memory of my dear mama, but after reading what her last baby wrote, I knew all that needed to be written had been. My (not) little brother’s words…
And here we are.
I must say, I’ve both impressed and bested myself. How, you ask. Well, it so is no small feat, proving myself to myself! But that’s a tale for another post, come Thursday. At this point, you’re probably expecting a proper introductory post with what’s to get out of this here blog site, huh? Well, sadly, I must disappoint you to attend to what’s surely priority: honouring my mum.
Expect my introduction (complete with weekly lineup information) before the day wraps up tomorrow.
I, thus, kick this off with an imagined account of the last few living moments of my mum Juliana Folake Aworinde. Yes, you read that right. Imagined. But that’s not to say that these are not based on true events. The roller coaster ride of events leading up to the moment Mum got “caught up” are no less than true-life. But this isn’t a lamentation…
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