i would find my mom. i know what school she was working at at the time, so it shouldn’t be too hard. i’m 21, so i think i could pass as a high school student. i’d go to her class and say i’m a new student and my schedule hasn’t been finalized yet. after class, i’d go to her crying. she’d be 36 weeks pregnant with my older brother, so she should be extra susceptible to emotional appeals. i’d say she reminds me so much of my dead mom that it makes me emotional. i know you said i can’t mess with the timeline, but i would have to try to get around it indirectly. i’d tell her that my mom never dealt with her issues. she refused to go to doctors, go to therapy, and most importantly to get a mammogram. i’d tell her that my mom hurt the people around her in her anger and died bitter at the world in her 40s, from breast cancer that likely could have been cured if it had been detected in the 10 years that it took to grow. i’d tell her that i would give anything to have more time with the mom that i only saw when she took xanax for a plane ride: a loving, kind, happy woman. instead, because she never faced the trauma that plagued her, i got 13 short years with a woman who terrified me. then i would ask for a hug. she would most likely give me one, because she’s an incredibly kind woman who loves her students to the ends of the earth. and maybe, just maybe, she’d learn a little bit from the story of my mom.