THE FIRST TIME that I saw my mother cry was during my seventh birthday. They say children who had a painful childhood tend to forget their memories. But it was different for me because, at a young age, it already made me wonder…
I can still recall that memory. Why did my mother cry on my birthday? We were supposed to be happy.
Inside my little mind who dreamed of cakes and unicorns during her birthday celebration, I silently wished I would wear a party hat above my head like my classmates when they would celebrate their birthdays at school. I never had the chance to. Rather, on my seventh birthday, my little mind was filled with random questions a child could think of when she is confused with… things not going as planned.
Why did I only have a slice of cake on the table? I remembered
