This is where I need to start, and I have known deep inside for years upon years. I love her, I miss her, I wish she was still here, but what I really need to do is go back, open the envelopes, grieve, cry, forgive, heal, and move on as a stronger, healthier, and wholer individual.Mom wasn't perfect, none of us are... She was wounded, because none of us escape life without wounds... And she made mistakes, because we all mess up along the way. There is no looking to place blame, only to heal and embrace the beautiful but jagged pieces of Martha that are so much like my mom. It's okay to be like her in those precious beautiful ways.
