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46 in time In time, my mother entered a great calm, and though she still occupied a physical space, we understood she had gone elsewhere and we were strangers to her. Each day my father would say, “Sweetheart, who am I?” But she could not tell him. One morning, when he leaned close to her and said, “Sweetheart, who am I?” she smiled at him. “Who is it you think you are?” she said. And my father turned away, in tears, and could not tell her. ...

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