My mom gives me a hard time and I gripe about it a lot, but I really do love her. I’ve grown to have a begrudging respect for her and her ways. That’s not to say my childhood wasn’t still traumatic and it shouldn’t have been that way, but here I am.
Over Thanksgiving, she asked me if she had the right to be happy, to go on living her life after my dad died, and I said, “Of course.” What’s done is done. She shouldn’t have to punish herself. And I need to stop punishing her.
