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Sadly Relatable

This made for sad yet relatable reading about a mother. There comes a time when you finally stop having those bad dreams, fraught with conflict that plays over and over in your head but never to reach resolution in real life. You continue to play the role, meet expectations, feel guilty that you never exceed them, Over time you learn to stop asking or waiting for answers. Just know that your mother was and is a wounded woman. And no matter how much you want to help, how bad your need for closure, she lives alone in her island and there is no way to reach her there or to bring her where the rest of life is. 

I wish we could talk, but then I remember, we never accomplished anything with talk. Yet, she is the one who fed me, taught me, read to me, gave me her values, and ultimately was proud of me. 

That is all true for me too. I have learned not to talk about anything remotely meaningful. We stay on neutral third-party topics, the ones that are safe, unlikely to trigger either of us and we each go our way. As we grow older and acquire life experience we like to believe we may have the solution to whatever ails our mother. The truth is they would rather remain alone and wounded, than seek our help and lose the standing motherhood gave them - it may be what they value the most.

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