It isn’t easy forgiving myself for not making her happy, and it’s even harder forgiving myself for the nursing home. The visits for that year and a half will always haunt me, although I know I could not have done otherwise.
My mother and I were never at peace with each other, and the pain still pushes forward and insists, There must have been something you could have said or done that would have made her happy, would have set things right, would have made her, magically, into a loving mother.
