Kai Wilson

Letter from an Emotionally Neglected Daughter on Mothers' Day

Letter from an Emotionally Neglected Daughter on Mothers' Day Hi, Ma. I hope you are doing well, but I know if I ask, you will give me a litany of ailments and stories of perceived hostile acts of grievances towards you. I will ask anyway, disassociating while you talk, a protective habit that I developed while still in diapers. I interject little “mmmhmmms” here and there, but even if I did not, you would continue talking anyway. You don’t really need me there. Just an ear as a prop that makes you think someone is listening. That ear can be attached to anyone and anything: me, my brothers, the dog. Hell, it could be unattached. Even better. A sentient ear with no mouth to give you feedback or criticism. Only words of worship and praise for you, while your criticism is unleashed on anyone and anything within your orbit: your children, your sisters, your brother, your friends, strangers on television, whomever.