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  • Writer's picturedivawdep


This is a piece that I wrote four years ago. Although the sentiments haven't changed much, the situation has gotten much worse. The pain is something that will take years to explain and a lifetime to heal.

Every year I celebrate my mother. I do the cards. The gifts. Some visits.

I make sure the kids acknowledge their grandmother.

I’m the respectful daughter. Always making sure that respect come first.

I can’t do it this year. I can’t gloss over my pain for the sake of Hallmark and the world.

Yes, I am truly blessed to have my mother. Yes I am glad she brought me into this world. Yes, I appreciate all that she has done for me. Yes I understand that not everyone has their mother.


Does that justify the dark childhood. The emotional beatdowns. The narcissistic hell I lived in. The lies. The disconnect. The lack of structure. The lack of support. The stolen childhood. The theft of my dreams.

This may be harsh to some. It may be inexcusable to others. And someday I will feel differently. I will let go and breathe again.

But today, right now, the sins of the mother(and father), are not forgiven.

Or forgotten……

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