NOW that my mother has died I’ll never be able to ask her all those questions I wanted to ask about my childhood. I’m a man of 37 and Mum died of cancer three weeks ago. She was 65.
I was one of seven and she treated me differently from my siblings. I remember breaking my arm when she threw me down the stairs when I was six. Although she could be nasty, I never stopped loving her. When I think of how she was at the end, it tears my heart apart.
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