Mommy Dearest
I remember the whole
thing like it was yesterday. Even then, when it happened, when my world
was turned upside down on its perfect little head and so violently
shaken—I knew it would be one of those things etched and burned deeply
into my subconscious so no matter how hard I would try to erase it or
forget, it just would never work. Of course, my natural tendency is to
romanticize years gone by, thinking what-could-have-been. I would
probably be completely different, or maybe I would’ve turned out just as
I am now.
I know I wouldn’t have
gone to Winthrop. I know my mother wanted what was best for me, and I’m
sure she would have had her own choice schools more deserving of my
attendance than Winthrop. If I hadn’t come here, where would I have
gone? Would I have ever ended up meeting the love of my life? Would I
know how to handle being in the hot seat the way I know how to now? How
would my life be different if she were still alive? I don’t know how the
presence of my mother would have changed me, but I do know that behind
every important decision I make, her absence is deeply felt.
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