2. Mama Sang to Me in the Car We’d ride in the Buick, windows cracked, her voice slipping through like sunlight in dust. “You are my sunshine,” she’d sing, her hand patting my thigh. “And you’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.” I didn’t. Not then. I was too scared of the world, of my own soft voice, of the way I wanted to dance. But I remember her love like the melody— simple, steady, and true, even when the world wasn’t.