A Much Loved Woman
She was not perfect, she didn’t even claim to be. She just did the best she could. She was born during WWII, to hard working people. She had siblings. They loved but weren’t openly affectionate. I doubt if communication was important. Where she learned to hug and kiss and talk I’ll never know, but I know she learned so that her children would always know. She had to get married, I know she loved my Dad just as he loved her, but sometimes love isn’t enough and sometimes love can be killed. Unlike so many other divorcees I’ve known, she never passed her new found dislike of my father down. She informed us, that we had one father and we didn’t get to choose, we had to love him, only when we became older would she admit, that even if we had to love him, it was our choice to respect him or not. ...