Every day you love her, even the days when she doesn't love herself

My mom would oftentimes talk aloud to herself, as many of us do. Personally, I like to speak reminders for myself, in hopes of remembering something important, or say something quippy, because although there is no one else to hear it, I find it too funny not to express.

While these examples may be relatable, I don’t recall my mom doing either of them; I only remember her saying mean things to herself. I remember her audibly belittling herself, as if she had no value to the world, to our family, or to me, because of a silly mistake she had made.

“You’re so stupid, Dorothy. Why did you do that?”

“You can’t do anything right, can you?”

“You’re worthless.”

While she did some big things wrong, like raise my brother and I in a pseudo-Christian cult, she also did a lot of things well. She had an excellent work ethic; upon retirement, her position was so extensive that it had to be broken up among several different people. Her cooking I sadly took for granted; though my brother holds that Hormel brand chili is better, I highly disagree, and we both know her homemade waffles are the best. Not all of us were raised on home-cooking like I was, the kind of meals made with love and by request, when possible. My husband’s mother, God bless her, microwaved everything. The poor man didn’t think he liked bacon until he married me; can you imagine!