From Betsy: This is the first time I’ve re-blogged anything but this piece by Jan Wilberg broke my heart in a good way. I wanted to share it. Here’s to mothers, daughters, honesty, love. And to being glad.
I like to say I knew her when.
I knew her when her bangs were cut straight across with sewing scissors because the idea of spending real money on a haircut for a kid seemed outlandish to me.
I knew her when she would dangle upside down from a metal bar at the playground, do a flip and land on her feet on the concrete while I covered my eyes and waited for the absence of crying.
I knew her when she would sit across from me, a single mom with a single daughter, while we ate dinners made with a lot of macaroni and tomato soup.
I knew her when she would do her homework in the bathroom while I sat in the tub so paralyzed by distress and depression that I could only go to work, make dinner, and hide in the tub every night drinking wine and…
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