I still haven’t forgiven you, yet you have passed away almost 51 months ago. If you were still alive, you would be 62, but you left us just shy of 58.
I have so much anger and resentment for being the pushover you were. So stubborn in the dumbest shit and a self made victim from the miserable childhood you lived through. Your sisters made it more or less intact, and some drive and dignity you never had.
You didn’t have to die but you were jealous. Jealous of the tears I cried for dad when he passed away, bitter by the fact that he never really loved you but you stuck along for the sheer convenience of having a man take care of you, yet not taking care of yourself.
I still haven’t cried over your passing. My heart turns into a hard black rock when I think of you. I can’t help but look at pictures of you and feel distain. Why did you choose to be so bloody passive in your life? Why weren’t you more than just a mom.
Sure, you did a swell job as a mother. I dread to think what train wreck I would be today without dad.
I don’t know if you truly did what was best or simply what was convenient.
Your life was a waste.
I can’t help but feel resentment for you. Life could have been great if you had only stepped up and stopped being dependent on others.
You smoked yourself to death. HOW STUPID is that?
I can’t bring myself to forgive you.
Your daughter that has no idea who her father is.
P.S. Having a baby just because you want one is the most selfish thing you could have done.