“Are you close to your mom?” I ask, since he hasn’t told me much about her. “We have a touchy relationship. We’re family, but we’re polar opposite people with polar opposite views of the world. I love her because she’s my mother, but I don’t always like her, if that makes sense.” “That does make sense,” I murmur, following him up the stairs. “I always felt like my mom had more potential, but she was limited by her own upbringing, and she never pushed past that to grow into her own. I wondered what she might have been like if she had taken a different path, made different choices. It’s the same
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