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Christmas

The year I turned seven I overheard my mother discussing a child abuse case she was working on with my father; the little boy wouldn’t make it from the injuries he sustained. She said he wouldn’t let go of her hand when she went to see him.

I haven’t spoken to her for the past four months, and I’m beginning to consider my long-term plans. Do I accept her back into the fold? She certainly has not changed. Then again, do I continue to ignore her? She is my mother after all.

We’re taught we should be bold and passionate by bringing our loves flowers and making grand gestures like standing in the rain with a boom-box over our heads like John Cusack in, “Say Anything…”