My mother was always filled with if onlys. If only I never married your father, if only I never came to this country, if only . . . And now I wonder if only I never went away like I did, had more patience, not gotten so angry at her. I was always so angry. If only I had really listened, given up on the idea of what a mother should be like and seen her as a human being with her own needs, desires, nightmares and dreams.
Filled with regrets
