It isn't so much that I didn't want to write about Ma, more like I wasn't sure how to write this; Ma was so many different people in my life, and I didn't want to give the wrong impression. Rather, I wanted to give a complete picture of our relationship...which turns out to be impossible.
I was her oldest, and no doubt a bit of a puzzle at first, and probably a disappointment later. Me, I desperately needed her, but dreaded the very thought of acknowledging that-to do so was to admit weakness. From my mid-teens 'til about the last year of her life, we fought a lot, especially as we got older~I was frightened by her physical heath problems, and she by my emotional illness. I think we were afraid of losing the other, but unsure of what to do.
Make no mistake, the love was strong, but distorted by human frailty. We did manage to learn to talk to each other without striking sparks, but it took years, and lots of pain. Still, it was worth it-I knew she loved me, and vice versa.
Ma was a Christian, so I know where she is, and that she is happy; I'll see her soon.