On December 5, 2009, I went to have Christmas pictures taken with my kids and boyfriend. My kids were two and three years old at the time. It started snowing on the way home. I had been borrowing my mother's car, and she called in the middle of the night, demanding I return it immediately. Despite the heavy snowfall and icy roads, she insisted I bring the car back right away. Her boyfriend wanted to see his brother, whom he hadn't seen in ten years. Unbeknownst to me, they intended to pick up illegal substances.

I pleaded with her to wait until morning when the roads were safer, but she threatened to call the police and report the car stolen if I didn't return it immediately. I reluctantly drove the car, but only made it about two miles before it slid off the road and crashed through an eight-foot fence. My face was severely injured.

Paramedics arrived, but I told them to leave me, thinking I was a lost cause. They persisted and eventually flew me to a major hospital via helicopter, where I underwent thirteen facial reconstructive surgeries. My brother was my biggest supporter during this time.

My mother didn't arrive at the hospital until she learned my aunt was in charge of my healthcare decisions. She then pleaded with my brother to bring her to the hospital. In hindsight, I realize I would have likely died under her care.

After being released from the hospital, my mother stole my prescribed pain medication and claimed it was payment for her car. She then told me the car accident was the worst moment of her life, referencing the two hours she spent at the hospital.

She threw my prescribed medication into a litter box and told me to retrieve it if I truly wanted it. She threatened to call the police for breaking and entering when I tried to retrieve my medication.

My mother collected insurance money but never paid a single medical bill. Instead, she bought a new car and other items, like a TV. I cut contact with her as much as possible.

We briefly reconciled a year later when I needed a ride to pick up prescriptions after another surgery. However, she asked for one of my prescriptions, and when I refused, she kicked me out of her car, refused to return my cane, and forced me to crawl to my friend Miss M's house.

Miss M helped me and drove me to my follow-up appointment. My mom told our family I was horrible and had treated her badly. Some family members still don't speak to me twelve years later.

After multiple surgeries, I tried reconciling with my mom and asked why she treated me poorly as a child. However, we never reached a point of forgiveness before she passed away.

Her home nurse called my brother, not me, to inform us of her passing. When I called my mom's phone, the nurse yelled at me, saying I was an awful daughter who abandoned my mom. This happened just before a scheduled surgery appointment.

I left without being seen at the doctor's office and went to confirm the news. My friend Miss T drove me to my mom's place, where I learned the truth. According to reports, my mom took too many prescriptions.

It's been some time since the funeral, and I feel guilty for not forgiving her. People tell me it's like carrying a brick on my back and that I should forgive her for everything she did during my childhood, teenage years, and adulthood.

However, I don't want my four kids to think it's okay to carry this burden.

Need your help!

Creating a book on Perspective!

Hello everyone, I have a question for you.

I’m a writer and I’m trying to get together a bunch of letters from all walks of life and put into a book (the project is called Perspective for now.) I was wondering if anyone was interested in helping me out with this! If you are please message me!

And you’d obviously get credit in the book cause it’s literally impossible without your help!