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It’s my mother’s birthday today. She would have been 57 years old.

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It’s the day before taking the flight to Africa, but it’s still a special day. Her day.

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Like any daughter, I would have given a lot just to be able to share a cup of coffee again and talk about the little things; sharing a moment, long or short. Despite the ache and the longing, I know I am rich in moments shared and my heart treasures them. There is an endless room for love in our hearts, and pain is often the greatest reminder of it.