(Editor's Note: @lilyslowe is kicking off our Community Caregiving Journal!! Please join us, too.)

I crash into her 100 times per week. Sometimes I bounce off. Sometimes I'm like a screen door and her hate passes through me. Sometimes I stick to her like a velcro wall.

Pieces. I live my life in pieces. A piece for me. 10 pieces for her. A piece for me. 1000 pieces for her. I need more pieces.

Forgive. Hah. 60 years of a no mother mother. She thinks she was the best. But I am not afraid of my history anymore. I know it for what it is. I play hooky now and lie to her to stay sane. Forgive. How?