My mother and I live in the same space. But we are like strangers. Our only exchange is the food she makes for me. No hellos, no goodbyes, and no “I love you.”
I know beneath the deafening silence lies a secret that weighs heavily on her, keeping her from speaking; knowing that behind her tightly pursed lips is a shame so overbearing that it suffocates her.
One day, I summon up the courage to sit her down and make her talk. But am I ready to hear what she has to say? Are we ready to face what’s been buried for so long?