For as long as I can remember my mom and I were best friends. Almost all of my early memories, which are sparse, involved spending time with her.
I went to work with her, she hung out with my friends, I helped her with chores, we played Barbies together. As I grew older our bond got even closer.
Her values and opinions were my values and opinions, we talked about everything in detail (including sex), she was involved in making costumes and doing make up for my ballet company, I even had decided that when we got old she’d come live with my husband and I.
Read more on themighty.com