Love and Hate: When I Completely Leave This World

By the time I got back, dusk had settled and Mom and Jane were midway through dinner.

Plates of large shrimp, neatly peeled, sat before Jane.

"Dig in, Jane."

"Mom, I'm a grown woman, I can peel my own shrimp."

"Age doesn't change a thing, you'll always be my baby and I'll always enjoy doing this for you."

Their perfect little mother-daughter show...

So enviable.

Jane, seeing me, chirped cheerfully, "Nora, Mom's been cooking. Come try some."

A glance revealed an empty pot and shrimp shells scattered everywhere.

Typical. She "cooked", but clearly not with me in mind.

"I've told you before, I'm not your sister, and you don't earn that title."

Without looking up, Mom slammed her fork down, "I've warned you, if you can't be nice, you can just leave."

She expected me to say something, probably gearing up to chew me out, but seeing me silent, her anger flared.

"Can't even let the year end without making a scene, huh? Who are you dolling up for with all that makeup?"

"And that hairdo, you think it makes you look cool? People laugh behind your back, you're clueless about how much you embarrass yourself."

My dreadlocks weren't her style—too wild, too out there compared to her taste for the serene.

We had clashed over this hairstyle more times than I could count.

And it was still a sore point for her.

She snapped, grabbed scissors, and blurted out, "Cut it off now or leave and never come back."

When she yanked my hair, I pushed back. In the struggle, clumps of my hair came out in her hands.

What was left of my once full head of hair now lay bare.

Many rounds of chemo had taken their toll.

Mom stopped dead, her face turning white.

The scissors clattered to the floor.

She tried to speak, then stopped, words failing her.

A knot tightened in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Was she finally seeing me? How could I even begin to explain?

Your late regrets, I've got no use for them.