I read all of this with that quiet lump you get when love and hurt are standing in the same room... and neither one knows where to look. The line between not accusing anyone and still letting the child speak is so tender and so hard, and I really respect how carefully you held both.
I love your reflection in this poem, Odel. I understand both your side of it and your mom's. I have my own relationship with my mother that is not always good, but I love her dearly. I know you love your mom dearly also and writing this must not have been easy.
I read all of this with that quiet lump you get when love and hurt are standing in the same room... and neither one knows where to look. The line between not accusing anyone and still letting the child speak is so tender and so hard, and I really respect how carefully you held both.
I love your reflection in this poem, Odel. I understand both your side of it and your mom's. I have my own relationship with my mother that is not always good, but I love her dearly. I know you love your mom dearly also and writing this must not have been easy.