pass, whether she was just seeing my state of mind for the first time, or someone else — a neighbor, one of my teachers, or a co-worker with a son the same age — had spoken to her, but she was having second thoughts about leaving me home alone so much of the day and on school nights.

I had never actually seen my mother cry before this. I know she must have had some terrible nights, but she either held in the pain or affected a calm demeanor that hid it extremely well. This time, she was on her knees as I was seated at the kitchenette table, holding my hands, with tears in her eyes I'd never seen before.

"I want you to know how sorry I am, that I know I've been neglecting you. Can you forgive me?"

I was so surprised, I didn't know how to react. I think I might very well have said some kind words like, "there's nothing to forgive" — the kind of thing I'd say today — but more likely I just threw my arms around her and said nothing, which is a really a child's way of saying the same thing.

She said she would finish up the semester and then delay getting her diploma until I was at least in high school. True to her word, she did delay getting her GED until then, and we did spend more time together, often with my Aunt Jessie — who, with three sons of her own, may have been the one to sound the warning about me — or just watching TV together, or having long talks. It was about this time that she began telling me the stories of her family that you read in the first part of this narrative.

My Aunt Jessie was like a second mom to me, and we were always very close, in much the same way that she and my mother were close. So much so, that I rarely called her "Aunt" Jessie, dropping the "Aunt" when we talked. As much as I loved my mother, it was refreshing to have a second opinion, and Jessie was never shy about volunteering hers. Whenever I think of her, I always remember that big, warm smile, and the way she accepted me with all my flaws.

For much of our time in North Sacramento, Jessie was very much a part of our lives. By this time, she had divorced Walt, the father of her two youngest sons. The oldest, David, was already married with two children and