I've Had More Conversations with You than with God
by Shelby Criswell
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I haven't seen my mother in about two years. My fondest memory of her is all of the nights we shared staying up until the sun rises while she smoked and I drew pictures of our living room and of the moon and her holding her cigarette. That's mostly what I remember about my mother. I just remember watching the same movies over and over and talking all night long while still trying to be quiet while the rest of the family slept. Sometimes we would just go for a drive and let the moon guide us because there was nothing else to do and we weren't tired.
Now, the only connection to my mother is the moon. It's the only thing that was always there all of those nights I shared with her that I still have now. Every night I go outside and talk to the moon as if it is my mother, hoping that wherever she is, she is doing that same thing.