>Now Playing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSxJe2JWe70I haven't shown my mother that I love her as much as I could. Each day I do as much as I can to avoid conversation, always doing my best to go to my room when she attempts conversation, ensuring we never exchange anything more than 3 sentences a day.
I hold anger in my heart about her poor choice in men - men in jail, men who never were around to raise her kids, men who raped my sister and intimidated me to keep me silent as a child, men who don't work around the house, yet dwell in this place. And I hold some appreciation knowing when I was in a mental hospital for two months, not a day passed when she didn't visit me.
I have to move out the house by January 15, 2016. I started making steps ahead of time and today as I packed my things I found a letter from my mom, reading that I am her everything and that she loves me. As a minimalist, I have always owned little. But as I chose clothing to donate, threw out old academic honors and awards, memorabilia that don't mean much to me on a personal level, I realized there are some things - things like her card - I need to take with me.
I have to make sure she knows, before I leave, that I love her. I do.
