It's been 8 years, and I still miss my mom.
What would I do if I had one more day with her?
She'd be able to see what a strong, independent toddler my daughter is. We could watch her play at the playground, push her on a swing, catch her as she slides down the slide. She can see her dimples and hear her giggles. Tuck her in for a nap. Read books. Paint with tempera paint. Watch 'Frozen' for the umpteenth time.
If I had one more day with her, I'd want to talk. Freely, I hope. With only one more day, there is no time to walk on eggshells. I'd want to talk to her about mental health. About my struggles. And her own. And everyone in the family's.
I want to ask her about family history. What her parents were like. I know they denied her pain medicine when she was stricken every month. That friends had to drop her off blocks from home so her mom didn't know that she got a ride. That her mom didn't really like her. But what was it like?
What was dad like when he was younger. Was he always controlling? Or was it a change in his behavior?
Why didn't they listen to my grandparents when they suggested I was deaf? Why did they wait until I was two to get a diagnosis? Why did they not really pursue American Sign Language?
I'm not angry. I don't want this information to be about anger. I just want to know, to better understand their thought processes, to get a fuller picture of history.
I want the truth, if I had one more day with my mom.
I want a hug, if I had one more day.
She's not dead, but No Contact is kind of like a death. It's the death of a relationship. Or perhaps dormition. A deep repose.
What if she reached out? What if I did? What would happen?
Would I get what I'm craving--truth and a hug? Or will it be dangerous?
If I only had one more day.
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