Mrs. Santiago and I continue to embrace each other surrounded by the spotless clean of the bathroom for a long while. Every now and then, one of us will squeeze the other, our emotions becoming too much to bare alone. I know personally that I'm filled with an intense amount of gratitude, but also sorrow. There's a part of me that wishes Mrs. Santiago never had to be my mentor in all of this, and that my mother was the one teaching me. I can see her in my mind, coaxing me to complete a lesson on lighting a candle. She would show me so many things she could do, and teach me to believe in myself. I wonder if I'd be more confident in myself if she were around. Her presence wouldn't hurt, for sure, but my mother's presence would've stopped a lot of other events from hurting my self-esteem up to
