We both were definitely not easy to handle. And maybe we were just too similar to get along with each other. And maybe we should have tried harder. I could have asked you about your day, just like you did. I could have tried to understand why you shouted at me. I should have tried to stick to your rules. But our timing wasn’t the best, I fear. When you were angry at me for not tidying up my room, I shouted back at you. Asked you with an ice-cold voice if this was really your biggest problem. Rather than offering understanding for your reactions which arose from all the pressure you’re under, I blamed you for everything that went wrong in my life. I was angry, because you didn’t value me as an individual, but tried to form me more like you. But I didn’t want to be like you.
Now, years later, I understand, Mommy. I understand, that your only aim was to protect me from making the same mistakes that you did. I understand, that you were unable to show me your love, because barely anybody showed you how it feels to be loved. I understand, that I could have made it easier for you with a minimal effort. But I was selfish, I felt treated unfairly and I was ignorant.
I finally get it Mom,
I miss you so much.