What is time? While I think sixty-two years was an eternity, evidently it wasn't. It was an experience, it was a learning curve. I can look back and beam, be extremely proud. I am proud of the day I wrote "Return to Sender" on that huge box she sent me.
Once you wipe your ass in a letter and send it to your daughter, you should know your relationship is over. That can not be fixed. My mother always operated as a bulldozer. She would mow you down, run flat over you, disregard your rights as a human being. Sadly, she never did it to help you as she pretended. Martha was on a mission of mass destruction. She had a baby at sixteen, the culprit refused to marry her. To prove she was as spoiled, as immature, as evil, as spiteful as every one said, Martha plotted, could never be trusted. She was a witch, a soothe sayer, a "root doctor", a conjurer, a plotter, a ditch digger. Martha was as wicked as she was old.
What kind of legacy is that? Who brags about cruelty? How can you be proud of the fact that you sent your daughter a shit smeared letter? What did she do? No, what lie did you tell? What did you say she did to deserve such? Wrong is wrong. Wrong can not be made right. You wisely claim that you can not un-ring a bell. But you can apologize, you can utter the words that you are sorry.
When an imp is bold enough to brag that she isn't repenting for shit, that's more than cold. That is more than demonic. You are an abomination!
"Come ye out from among them."
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