A poem.

I was home schooled most of my life.  In 7th grade my mom took a break from teaching me and my siblings so she could care for her dying mother.  Omi was one of the most beautiful, strong-willed, courageous women I knew and I wanted to be like her in every way.  I will never forget the day she took me into her office and told me she wanted me to write her memoir.  Imagine this eleven-year-old girl sitting across from my boney grandmother, her head wrapped in a scarf and fingers idly touching her chest, while I soaked in every single word and motion she made.