And the Damage Done
Everyday I Write the Books
It's a start.
Mama had blue eyes - bright blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. She had pretty good hair, but she had to work for it. Hot rollers and curlers - to fluff it up.
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The Letter to the Kid
Hey Kid!
I've been thinking about you a lot lately.
How are you doing?
Ok, that is silly of me to ask. I know how you are doing! It's kinda crappy, huh? I am going to tell you a few things that will hopefully help, help you get your light back. It has started to fade.
I know that it is very hard to believe right now, but it gets better! It will get worse before it gets better, but just trust me, it gets better - much, much, much better!
There were two things that my mom, Starr, loved. Beatin' ass and Whitney Houston.
Considering I was on the receiving end of a lot of the former, I didn't really care for that one. However, I did whole heartedly agree with her on Whitney. I would always grin and nod my head when a Whitney Houston song would come on the radio and my mom would say, Damn! That bitch sure can sing!
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