End of a Story
Mom fell one last time, and we had to bring her to a care facility. As she’d always predicted, she didn’t last long there. Deprived of access to a stream of junk food and sodas, she started losing weight rapidly, and in less than a month, she was gone. She passed away the morning of April 14th.
By the end of things, we had an extremely toxic relationship. She abused my love for her to get almost everything she wanted, and continued to insult my friends, loved ones, and lifestyle choices. I hang on to the idea that it was bitterness and despair, not hatred, that drove her to this. She worked hard to bring me up as best as she could, and provided me with a basic moral sense that still serves me well.
I’m glad she is no longer suffering. I’m sorry that everything ended the way it did. I will miss the mother who did love me and tried her best, even if her best wasn’t always what she or I needed. Her funeral was well attended even by people she’d rejected in later years, because they remembered the good person inside.
In the meantime, Maya and I must finish clearing out her apartment and packing our own, to move into her apartment complex as part of a lease-forgiveness deal.
