AUTHOR: Beth TITLE: Mom DATE: 11/30/2004 08:30:00 PM ----- BODY:
It's like I spend so much time curled up inside my own head, peeking out from under a blanket, unwashed, letting the dirty dishes pile up in the sink; and what my mother does is let herself in the door, pull up the blinds, open the window to let the fresh air in, peel off the blanket, pull me upright, and say, come on, you wash, I'll dry. It goes without saying that I wouldn't be me without my mother. But I wouldn't be as okay being me--now, at least--if it weren't for her, either.
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