Your mother hollers that youre going to miss the bus. She can see it coming down the street. You dont stop and hug her and tell her you love her. You dont thank her for being a good, kind, patient mother. Of course not -- you vault down down the stairs and make a run for the corner.Only if its the last time youll ever see your mother, you sort of start to wish youd stopped and did those things. Maybe even missed the bus.But the bus was barreling down our street so I ran.

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