There is one day I remember my mom truly loving me.
It was the on time we had a mommy-daughter date. I was somewhere between kindergarten and second grade. We went to get ice cream, and I wanted to come home and watch the sunset together. The sky turned pink at the edges and began to burn orange. But my mom wanted to go inside. She was too impatient to watch the sun set. So I watched it set alone.
For my mom, I slipped through the cracks. I stopped telling stories because they took too long.