I loved my mother deeply. But never had a father.
When I was little and Father’s Day came around, I felt lost.
My mother, Margaret, would just say, “It’s always been you and me, Claire. That’s more than enough.” I believed her. Or at least I tried to.
I loved my mother deeply. But never had a father.
The problem was that my mother was always distant. She cared for me and ensured I had everything I needed. Yet she never hugged me, and when I cried, she’d pat my shoulder instead of pulling me close.
I used to stand in the doorway of her bedroom at night when I was seven.
“Mom?” I’d say.