I just spent three days at my granddaughter’s wedding a big fancy thing at some hotel with valet parking and champagne flutes and a band that played that godawful chicken dance song twice and I couldn’t look my own mother in the eye not once the whole time not even when she was standing right there at the head table doing that little wave she does all delicate with her fingers and you know what I don’t even care anymore I really don’t I just wanted to get out of there and go home to my quiet house and my dog and maybe watch some stupid reality show where nobody cries about family obligations for once. She looked at me at dinner on Saturday during the toasts she looked right at me from across the room and I swear she knew I swear she could tell I wasn’t thinking about how beautiful the bride was or how happy everyone looked I was thinking about how I wanted to be anywhere else but there I wanted to be home with my own little life that I built for myself after forty years of building hers for her I avoided her all Friday night at the rehearsal dinner I ducked into the ladies room for twenty minutes when I saw her coming I made sure I was always helping someone find their seat or talking to the caterers about the gluten-free option when she was around but then Saturday night during dessert I got cornered by Aunt Carol who can’t talk about anything but her cat’s irritable bowel syndrome and there she was my mother looking straight at me with that little half smile that means she knows you’re up to no good she KNOWS. And yeah I felt it I felt that burn that old familiar shame that little voice in my head that says you’re a terrible daughter you’re a selfish woman you abandoned her when she needed you most and you know what that voice can just shut the hell up for once because I am not a terrible daughter I am not a selfish woman I spent twenty-three years making sure she never wanted for anything after my father died I drove her to every doctor’s appointment every bridge game every hair salon appointment I cooked her dinner every night for god’s sake until she got too frail to eat solids I was there for every crisis every scraped knee every broken heart every time the furnace went out at 3am I was there I was ALWAYS there. I prioritized her I made her my whole damn life I cancelled my own trips I put off my own friendships I postponed my own dreams for her sake I never went to that art class I wanted to take I never learned to play the piano I wanted to learn I never even read that stack of books by my bed that just keeps getting taller and taller I was always busy doing something for her or with her or about her always always always. And now that she’s in that nice little assisted living place and I have a moment to breathe to think about my own damn self for the first time since I was a teenager she still looks at me like I’m a disappointment like I’m failing her somehow like I’m not doing enough I just want to be me for a minute to think about what *I* want to do not what she wants me to do not what the family expects me to do just me and my quiet house and maybe that reality show where nobody’s crying. I saw her again Sunday morning at breakfast just as I was leaving she was sitting with my brother who was telling some long story about his fishing trip and she was laughing that tinkly little laugh she has and she waved at me again that delicate little hand wave and I just nodded and kept walking I didn’t even stop I just got in my car and drove away I just drove and drove until I was home and I don’t feel bad about it not really not anymore.