I’m confused. Why would my mother, our mother, feel guilty? What did she ever do except love us and work for us, two, three jobs at a time, and worship and follow rules, while her own family turned its back on her? And then slowly I begin to consider: Is this what it is to be a mother who has to carry the weight of having to protect her children in a world that is conspiring to kill them? Are you forced to exist within a terrible trinary of emotion: rage, grief or guilt? What of the joy and the peace that loving a child brings? What of pride and of hope? Could it really be true that my mother
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