I’m decluttering.
Whatever shall I do with your treasures?
They hide
in front of me,
whispering how they worked
to shape who you were.
They distort
who I want to be,
cluttering my hopes
with their commands,
demanding I become
subject to their shaping.
Forgive me: I have accepted
only some of your gifts.
Learning Living 
A very good poem.
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Ooooo They forgive You! You are THE FAVORITE DAUGHTER !💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜
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I’m their only daughter – so that helps. Thanks, Bogda.
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So many of us are there and want to avoid passing that problem along!
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