 and we laughed louder than necessary. She kissed me on both cheeks right there in the parking lot. Unlike other moms, her love was always out in the open for everyone to see. Her love was also full of tamir. She used to call me kanmani, precious, the apple of her eye. I've forgotten most of the tamir I used to know, but sometimes, in a crowded place, I'll hear some family talking tamir, and the words will come back to me, along with my mother, unharmed.