My mother’s abandonment made me worry I’d ruin a daughter
San Francisco’s Clement Street was crowded with vegetable displays and pedestrians pulling rolling baskets as I navigated Tate’s stroller along the sidewalk toward 6th Avenue. My two older boys, ages six and four, tagged alongside of me with their hands grasping the stroller. Every so often we’d stop, and I’d select bananas or turnips from the displays and hand…
