A Conversation With Mother

That night when only me and her in a time after supper, I gave a short hurtful reviewed on how our alliance so-we-called family could be this messed up. By opening this up I hope she know my feelings, I hope she'll listen, I hope she’ll understand.

The ugly truth: my family was (and still is) that kind of family that never had conversation with each other, or gather to share feelings about each other. The family that shut down a problem by pretending that everything is gonna be just fine if we don't talk about the problem no more. The family that created peace by keeping the bloody war inside everyone heart.
Dangly Amazing, we've done this for years.

I told her:

How my siblings and I survived our childhood obtaining abusive treatment from her and her husband. 

How it affects us until now. And I thought she should know.

How I learn so much from this messed up family.

How I see my friends’ parents were not like mine.

How I want to change everything, start the talk and forgive.

And she told me:

How she was only a stupid mother.

How she regret what she and her husband did to us back then.

How she's okay we don't consider her as a mother no more

How a neighbor's kid still love their parents even in abusive childhood.

How she's survived in pain pregnant and born us.

How she wants to live peaceful without talking about the past.

No, mom. I don't mind if you are stupid. I don't need a brilliantly clever super mom, I only need a mom who’d like to know her children's feeling and what kind of life they're living. I want a mother who'd like to stop this bloody war and fix this family. I want a mother who gave a damn care, if love is too much to ask.

I thought that night I was failed made her understand. Maybe I should try some other time.

Yeah, maybe some other time I should said it without tears.