My Mom

My mother and I were best friends. We weren't always that way. I was a typical teenager, the world was always ending and I hated most everything especially my mom. I look back at my teenager years, and never want a daughter because I see what I put my mom through in those years. Now, I imagine if my mom was here she would say that if she had a choice she would do it all over again.
I don't know when we became friends. At 18, I went to college. I remember that a few weeks after I moved out she redecorated my room at home. I was so mad. I also remember my first night at college. I was on a chair hanging something up something and fell and sprained my ankle. I called home in tears. I was hurt, I was homesick. Little did I know until later that after that phone call, my mom cried to my dad that she wanted to go pick me up and bring me home because she hated seeing me so sad. My father passed away when I was a junior in high school. I remember going home for the funeral and sleeping on my father's side of the bed so that my mom wouldn't be alone. I needed to be there, she needed me to be there. I will not lie. I won't say that my mom and I became bestfriends after that. My father passed away in November of '99, my junior year. I decided to move back home that summer to spend it with my mom. She was not thrilled about that idea. I was not known as the black sheep of the family, but maybe the trouble maker? The loud mouth? The never relax, drama queen? My mom wasn't sure that she could handle the world wind that I was. I was hurt but I went home anyways. I slept on my father's side of the bed most of that summer. She needed me, I needed her.