Most of me was glad when my mother died. She was a handful, but not in a cute, festive way. More in a life-threatening way, that had caused me a long time ago to give up all hope of ever feeling good about having had her as a mother. – Anne Lamott
I am the woman I grew to be partly in spite of my mother, and partly because of the extraordinary love of her best friends, and my own best friends mothers, and from surrogates, many of whom were not women at all but gay men. I have loved them my entire life, even after their passing. – Anne Lamott
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