wind madam grace left the room she took the air with her. no one could breeze. they could only scream. my mother was overcome. she ran from the house and i ran behind her. she threw herself to the ground and wailing back wracking against it. i issued the hogs a way as they tried to but that her hair. i was too young to know what it meant to die but years i knew. sorrow flowed out of my mother like a dam had broken. it was one that she would soon rebuild taller and stronger than it had been. as a child i would never see my mother cry again. i spent most of my life be leaving my 3-year-old version of what happened that day until as an adult i recounted my memory to my mother and she set the story straight. our gathering at madame grace's bedside was not to celebrate the day she was born but to accept that it was her day to died. [applause] >> part of the reason my mom had such the strong reaction was the complex of the family. my mom had been raised by my grandmother because my grandmother and my grandfather these two people who should never have been married in t