My mom will still sometimes make comments about how angry and hateful I was the year I was 15. She blames it completely on typical hormonal teenager angst, which was certainly a factor, but I have to bite my tongue not to ask "Do you have any idea how many reasons you gave me to hate the world?" My dad got transferred with his work so there wasn't much to do. The whole thing sucked and was no picnic for anyone, which is a big part of why I do bite my tongue with my mom. She hated leaving the house we built in Kansas. She loved it, it had all our sweat and blood in it, and she said she imagined from the day we started working on it that she would live there until she died and had imagined grandkids in it and all that. We started the move to Texas while my sister was in Germany as an exchange student for her senior year of high school so we packed her room while she was gone and it screwed her up a bit for starting college. It was such a mess. But we all survived.
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