By Katherine Toppin
As the pen fills the blanks, mother’s words bite my conscience. She struggled with naming me until my warmth filled her arms: Moments of pain replaced by lasting joy. Single and alone, she shared colorful splashes of me in her life: My first toothless smile, happiness, sadness, apprehension, fear, but never disappointment. You make my life purposeful.
In bed many nights, her lullabies made scary shadows vanish.
“You’ve completed the wrong name-change form, Miss,” the clerk exclaims. She returns with another.
Back through the exit door in shame, I remain as I am named, Moment.