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.