“She was a handful, but not in a cute way. More in a life-threatening way, that had caused me a long time ago to abandon all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother. She was a mix of wrathful Old Testament opinion, terrified politeness and befuddled English arrogance—Hermione Gingold meets the dark Hindu goddess Kali. And God, she was annoying. I mean this objectively. You can ask my brothers, or her sister. I used to develop tics in her presence. Yet most of who I have become... is the result of having had her as a foil, and having her inside me: as DNA, as memory; as all the weird lessons she taught, and the beautiful lessons, too—and they are the same.While she was alive, I spent my life like a bitter bellhop, helping my mother carry around her psychic trunks. So a great load was lifted when she died, and my life became much easier. For a long while, I did not miss her at all, and did not forgive her a thing. I was the angriest daughter on earth, and also one of the most devoted.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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