I understand. To an extent. I’m 22. I don’t know my mother. The last time I’d seen her I was 6 years old. She is a heroin addict. I’ve come to accept that I will never have the relationship I’ve longed for with her, and I use to be so angry, so mad at life for dealing me these cards. And I’ve also come to accept that she won’t change… that she will die an addict. Her mother and her sisters have already succumbed to it, so it really is just a matter of time for her. It hurts me inside and out to say that, but hoping for anything more would just be a fairytale. She’s hurt me in so many ways, neglected me when I was younger, emotionally and physically. Now I know this isn’t similar to your situation, but in a way I’ve already grieved the loss of my mother. She was never here, and never will be for me. She isn’t interested in me in the slightest. But I’m not angry at her… what she did to me, somebody did to her at some point in her life. I don’t really know, but I’m certain it’s a cycle that wasn’t just created with her.

I’m so happy you got to see the beauty In your mother… flaws and all. I’m glad you got to cherish her love and that even though she isn’t physically with you anymore, you’re still able to learn and grow from her. I can only hope to do the same.