Dear blog, today unfolded as a somewhat decent day, a mix of good and not-so-good moments. Lately, I’ve been wrestling with this intense feeling – this almost overwhelming sense that I absolutely “have” to repair my relationship with my mom. It’s become this huge priority in my mind, a core need, if you will. I find myself constantly reflecting on it, feeling this deep-seated need to make things right, to bridge any gaps that might exist. It’s important to me, really important, on a fundamental level. I often tell myself, and sometimes even others, that I “love” my mom. However, amidst all of this, a nagging uncertainty has been creeping in. Lately, I’ve found myself questioning the authenticity and the depth of that very feeling. What does this word, “love,” truly encompass in this specific familial context? Is it what I think it is? Or has it somehow morphed into something else entirely?

Peace out,
Snow 72