**Diary Entry**
How could she come to my house and frighten my children like that? I shouted, «Get out!» at her without a second thought.
My mother had only one eye. I resented her deeplyher appearance filled me with shame. To put food on the table, she worked as a cook at the local school. One day, when I was in primary school, she came to visit me. My stomach twisted with horror. How could she do this to me? The embarrassment burned. I pretended not to see her, glared with hate, then ran. The next day, a classmate sneered, «Oi, didnt know your mum was a cyclops!» I wished the ground would swallow me whole. I wanted her gone. Later, I confronted her, cruel words spilling out: «Why dont you just die so you stop humiliating me?»
She didnt answer. I didnt carerage had numbed me. I didnt want her in my life. I worked hard, left for university in Cambridge, then built my own lifemarried, bought a house, had kids. One day, she turned up at my doorstep. Years had passed; shed never met her grandchildren. When my children laughed at her, fury took over. How dare she scare them? I roared, «Get out!»
Quietly, she whispered, «Sorry wrong address,» then disappeared.
Years later, an invitation arriveda school reunion in Manchester. I told my wife it was a work trip. Afterward, curiosity led me to my childhood home. Neighbours said Mum had passed. I felt nothing. They gave me a letter shed left:
*»My dearest son, Ive always loved you. Im sorry for coming to Cambridge and frightening your children. When I heard of your reunion, I hoped to see youbut illness kept me in bed. I regret the shame I caused you growing up. You see, when you were little, an accident took your eye. As your mother, I couldnt bear you growing up blind in one eye so I gave you mine. Now, Im proud, knowing you see the world through it.
With all my love, Mum.»*
I never knew. And now its too late.
**Lesson learned:** Pride makes monsters of us. Love is sometimes silent, but it never stops givingeven when we dont deserve it.
