After picking out what clothes my parents would be buried in, I don’t know what came over me. But I was incredibly sad. I loved my mom and had missed her very much over the years, but I had also accepted that she didn't think she could survive without my father. He had made sure she truly believed that, and he had tried to convince me I wasn't worthy of anyone else as well. It took me leaving to learn just how wrong that was, and I was happy I had been strong enough to do so at the time. But now, looking at the clothes, I wasn't sure I would be strong enough to hold onto all my anger and resentment of him. Even with all his faults, he had been my father. Without him, I wouldn't be here today. And even though he had told me many times over the years that he hated me and wished he had beaten
