But goddamnit this is a photo of a sink that works and doesn’t even leak a little!

Today I used the last of the soap. The dog food is eaten, the medications used.

I made it. To be fair, I made it a long time ago bc that man was wrong about everything. But I love past me for buying the soap and for leaving. They didn’t know what was possible.

Mamaw played favorites and least favorites. I was her least favorite. She decided she didn’t like me before I was born and she held on to the belief that I don’t have the right to exist until she died.

I’m tempted to rewrite the overly forgiving obit.

I can understand smoothing the edges of a persons personality in memories and being selective of who speaks at a memorial service. But the choices made yesterday were… interesting. Why the need to out right lie about who she was?